The Waiver
by Early
Summary: This book is mid-#54. It begins after Visser Three's trial and continues on to Jake and friends aboard the Rachel. This story was published in 2002, last updated in 2005 and never finished.
1. The Show

* * *

The Waiver

* * *

"No, no, no, and once more, since you're not listening anyway, NO!"

"Come on, Jake! This is big bucks and I'm not going to let you screw yourself out of more money. You think you can make a living off of one freaking book! All you have to do is sign a teeny-weeny, tiny little document."

I sighed into the phone. For the past month and a half, Marco had been persistently annoying me to the point where, he hoped, I would sign a waiver to allow him "full use of the name and image of Jacob Berenson."

Not happening.

"Marco, it'd be different if I knew exactly what was going on," I tried to say reasonably, "but you just call me every day whining and moaning about your damn T.V. show! I don't want to come home, put my feet up and watch some jerk pretend to be me on television, okay? I have enough nightmares without being reminded on primetime! So just drop it!"

I was panting now, and the other end of the line grew silent. For a moment, I thought maybe he got the point . . .

"But Jake, God, man, think of the royalties! Think of the action figures!" He shouted, desperately. Then, a last resort.

"Ya know . . . Cassie signed."

That caught my attention quick.

" . . . She did?" I asked hesitantly. I knew what game he was playing. I could tell he was manipulating me; I'm not that stupid. But I was curious where he was going with this. "Wait a minute, why would Cassie do something as decisionally-challenged as to give YOU power over how her name and image are used. For all she knows, she could wander into a store and find her face on a bag of Meow-Mix. Uh-uh, I don't believe it. You're gonna have to do better than that, Marco."

Marco sighed as if all the problems of the world rested on his noble shoulders. "God, Jake, are you always this simple? She signed on a case-by-case basis. I have general control, but anytime she wants, she can review what I'm about to sign and revoke permission. Duh."

I thought for a moment. "Okay, well then how about I . . . Wait one second here," I said, suspicious now. "This is a trick, isn't it? You WANT me to sign on case-by-case. I don't know why or what the hell's going on, but I'm on to you, Marco."

"Jake, Jake, Jake, . . ." he replied sadly. "It's me, Marco! Your bestest buddy in the whole, wide world! Would I try to trick you?" He asked ever so sweetly.

"Oh, god. What do you have planned? Now I KNOW you're up to something! Ah-hah! I don't quite know what I'm 'ah-ha-ing' about yet, but I give to you a pre-disaster, 'ah-hah'!"

"Jake, look, just like, think about it, okay? I mean, what have you got to lose, right?" He said, using the 'oh-I'm-so-innocent-just-looking-out-for-your-own-well-being-don't-cha-know?' voice. And, then, the sinker:

"Hey, why don't you talk to Cassie? She'll be on my side." he said slyly, knowing I hadn't talked to Cassie in God knows how long and didn't plan on it ANY time soon.

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll sign the damn thing. But it better state that this is case-by-case only. You try to put something on T.V. that I don't approve, and best friend or not, I will sue you. Got me?"

"Geeze, fine. Listen, you won't regret this, man. I swear, just wait 'til those checks come rolling-"

I hung up.

* * *

The show was in its second year. It had already earned a prime-time spot and had received more awards than the entire cast of Friends combined. After the first few episodes, I had stopped watching.

Marco was painstakingly accurate as to how everything went down. Every time I watched, I relived those horrible moments. And you know what? My life was depressing enough, without all that crap. So every Wednesday from 8pm to 10pm (first they showed an old "classic" Animorphs episode, before the new one.) I would read a book or watch a movie. I figured I'd just let Marco tell the world everything and damn the consequences.

At least, until I got an important phone call.

"Hello, Mr. Berenson?" The call rang out over the intercom. I slowly rolled out of bed and rubbed my eyes.

"Yeah, huh? What. What is it?" I said dumbly, in mid-stretch. A while ago, I had hired a call-forward service to weed out all the wackos, cult leaders, lonely housewives and hormone-ridden teenage girls. The service asked a series of personal questions about me that anyone who actually knew me could answer, if they couldn't, the service didn't bother me with  
them.

"Sir, you have a call from someone claiming to be Ms. Carnet. When I asked her what, um . . . "It's a nice day out, it'd be a shame to waste it." means, she gave the correct response instantly. We also traced the call back to her residence. We believe this is a genuine call, sir. We at the service would like to remind you, however, that our process is at 96.3 percent effi-"

"Yes, yes, I understand," I interrupted impatiently. What could she want? "Just patch her to my cell, please." I said quickly.

I ran into my room and searched through my jacket pockets franticly. I snatched up the cell with a cry of triumph, just as the first ring sounded.

"Cassie." The first word of out of my mouth. I mentally slapped myself. "I mean, uh, hello?"

"Oh, hi Jake." She said, nervous as I. "Look um, Marco's got this show lined up, and I thought maybe you should, like . . . check this one out or something."

"Check it out?" I asked, confused. "I usually just let him show whatever he wants, why's this one any different?"

She cleared her throat. "Well, you probably know this already, but Marco has the shows written as each being a mission. Actually, during 'sweeps' he drags one mission on to a few more episodes and makes it more dramatic for higher ratings, but you know what I mean, right?" she rambled.

"Huh? Yeah, I know about that. So what? Wait, it's sweeps right now, right?" I asked slowly.

"Yeah, and Marco's got a show that's gonna grab all the ratings."

I knew she was working her way to the point, but I wished for once she could just spit it out.

"Well?" I asked, impatient. "What mission is he on?"

"Number twenty-six. The Iskoort home world."

At first I didn't get it. Why would this be so important to her? Why should we try to stop Marco? Who cared about the freaking Iskoort?

"What. I don't get it. Are you, like, afraid of pissing off Fran Dresher-" then I stopped in mid-sentence. I realized suddenly why Cassie would want me to revoke permission.

And why she was too embarrassed to do it herself.

"Oh, right. That."

"Yeah, that."

"I'll call Marco."

I hung up after I heard the click and dial tone.

I flopped down onto my bed.

A memory that I hadn't revisited in a long time flashed to me. A beautiful memory of relief and exuberance and just plain, old, happy to be alive. A memory of love at it's absolute mushy-ness.

Something I hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

As the limo pulled into the lot, I wondered just what the hell Marco was doing with his life and why I knew nothing about it. I answered my own question then, realizing I never bothered to find out.

Marco had sent a big, vulgar stretch-limo, with a sharply dressed driver and an "escort." A young lady whose only "job" was to accompany single males to the lot so they wouldn't be embarrassed by showing up alone.

I just ignored her the whole trip. Hey, I was polite at the beginning, I told her she could go ahead and raid the mini-bar. The company would just think I drank it all and pay for it. What I didn't realize was that this particular escort was notorious for not being able to hold her own. So I ended up dragging a half-asleep, half-dressed woman out of the limo who was trying her best to sing "La Cucaracha" in mangled Span-glish.

Marco met me at the car with a leer.

"I actually sent the escort as a joke, I didn't really think you two would get cozy and all-"

"Oh shut up, and help me get her into the security booth." I interrupted.

"So, where's Cassie?" I asked after we propped the young lady against the wall.  
(She had already slid out of the stool twice)

"Huh? Oh, right, she's inside. Showed up early."

Marco put the guard in charge of finding a ride home for my escort and we walked down the main strip until we reached a small, almost hidden, building on our left.

"Here's where I go when I don't want anyone's attention." Marco said, opening the door.

"Oh, so you never come here, huh?" I muttered.

We walked down some stairs.

Then some more. And some more.

"Wow, this place really is private, huh?" I said.

"Yeah, man. You have no idea what it's like being the sole writer for this whole thing. Every five seconds someone's up my butt about the accuracy of the project."

I cocked an eyebrow at him.

He smirked. "Okay, okay, so I tried to pull off an episode where Rachel kissed me. Is that so terribly wrong? I mean it COULD have happened, right? They couldn't have known."

"Yeah, the only thing that bothers me about this place is the all the stairs. I mean, come on, show some tact and put in an elevator."

Marco looked up at me, confused. "Wait, hatred of exercise I understand, but why would that be showing 'tact?"

I stared at him for a moment.

"You're telling me that about twelve flights of stairs leading slowly but inevitably downward towards god-knows-what doesn't remind you of anything? Doesn't ring any bells, whatsoever?" I asked plainly.

He stopped walking for a moment and glared at me.

"Well, NOW it does. Thank you Jake, this WAS a nice, private place for me to think, but now it scares the pee out of me, love you for that, Jake." He said, rolling his eyes.

Finally we reached the last floor. There was a door in front of us labeled "MR. MARCO BANDERA - NO MONKEYS ALLOWED"

I blinked. "Oh come on, what the hell does _that _mean!"

"Don't worry about it, just know that it's happened twice."

"What has?"

"The damn monkeys . . ." he opened the door and I was greeted by glaring television sets, one stacked on another. And Cassie.

"Hi." she said quietly.

Deciding to show my brilliant conversational skills, I replied with a faint. "Hi."

Marco rolled his eyes again. "Come on, you two." He walked over to where someone had set up four comfortable-looking chairs facing a large television set. "I actually didn't expect you guys to show up and watch this. I mean I'm glad 'cause my guys worked their butts off on this one, and we spent a lot of money on this. I mean, come on, the costs for the promos alone  
could make us seriously consider just how many people here are 'necessary'. Guys, a lot of people could lose their jobs if you cut this one."

"All right Marco, we get the point. Quit playing the sympathy card and starting playing the show."

Marco smiled sincerely. "You caught me."

He reached for a remote and the screen turned on. "Enjoy. I got some stuff to do upstairs.

Without turning around, I called out. "Something about an elevator?"

I heard him chuckle as the door shut.

I looked over at Cassie; she was staring stoically ahead, as if transfixed by the screen. But I knew better. If she was looking at the screen, then she wouldn't have to look at me.

The theme song played, and the show began.

I couldn't take my eyes off the set. Everything was exactly as I remembered. Well, not exactly. The people looked different and the Iskoort were advanced animatronics and computer graphics, but otherwise every word, every facial feature, every tense mood, every sad moment, was the same. I watched as the camera followed a Peregrine Falcon flying over a swampy mush of a planet. A voice-over of the actor playing me.

"They're all dead. I failed them. They're dead and it's my fault, dammit. I can't help anyone. I can't save anyone. I can only kill. Kill and hurt. Oh, God . . ."

Not exactly what I was thinking at the time, and it sounded more like Tobias's words to me, but it was pretty damn close. Too close. I felt Cassie's eyes on me, but I focused on the screen.

Focused on the Falcon flying back to the Lego-land hideout. An actor playing me, morphing and hesitantly opening the door. My fear of a dead team so perfectly etched on his face.

Cassie's look-a-like racing towards him.

He catches her, lifts her in the air, until she's eye-level with him.

They kiss.

"Well, it's about time . . ."

Oh, God.

I felt her hand on my face before I felt the wetness from the tears. I brushed away her hand and rushed the television. Ripped the tape out of the VCR and weakly dropped it on the floor. Cassie just looked at me startled.

"Don't. Pity. Me." I grit out.

"Wha-, Jake I don't, . . . I mean, why do think I pity you?" she stammered.

I narrowed my eyes. I can imagine how intimidating I probably looked. I decided to suck up my pride and spit it out.

I spoke deliberately and carefully. "The only reason why you touched me just then is because you pity me." I didn't wipe away the tears. To do so would have just drawn more attention to them. And I was made of tougher stuff than that.

"Jake . . ." her voice trailed off. I saw it as if she had an argument to make, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Yeah, I know. I get it. I'm fine to be with just so long as I'm perfect, right? I screw up, and I'm damaged goods, right?" I said, surprising us both. I didn't mean that, did I? It sounded so bitter, even to me. "I did what I had to and you hated me for it. Even when you were _telling_ me to keep going!"

"No, Jake, no. It was never like that. I mean you don't really believe that. You can't." she pleaded, mostly to herself.

"Oh, it wasn't?" my voice crackled and I cleared my throat.

I sighed and slumped back into a chair. I felt deflated, all the anger left me and took my energy with it. How did I think I could do this? Watch this with her and not feel this rush of emotions? I had done fine with her at court, but this was different.

So different.

I half-stood and slid my chair so it was facing her. I took my time sitting down and getting comfortable so I could think of exactly what I wanted to say to her. Most of the light in the room had been provided by the TV, so with it off it was hard for me to see her, with the hallway light leaking through the window over the door.

I took one of her hands and looked her in the eyes. Her gaze flickered for a second, like she just recognized who I was.

"Cassie . . . Wow, how am I gonna say this? Okay, let's just get this in the open, you know? Stop dancing around the subject. Okay?"

She nodded faintly. She wasn't sure what I was going to say and probably feared the worst.

"Do you ever think about us? I mean, like you and me? I used to, but then I just said to myself 'Jake, it's over, man. What's done is done.' But, does it really have to be that way?" I asked in a rush.

Cassie squirmed a little in her seat. "Jake, why didn't you ever say anything? You could've called. You could have asked me to go for coffee, for pizza, for anything. Why did you make me think you hated me?"

"Coffee! Oh, it would have been that easy, huh?"

"Yes." she stated with finality.

I shook my head. No, that wasn't what I'd meant to do. "Cassie, you got to see this from my point of view. I had just got out of a battle where I threw away about half my morals, killed seventeen thousand Yeerks, my cousin, my brother and half of my sorry little army all in one hour. I wasn't the one to call you offering a relationship." I sighed. She looked up at me, confused.

"Cassie, I needed your forgiveness. Oh, I wouldn't admit it, but that's what I really needed. I wanted you to call me, that would mean that you were willing to forgive me, or go somewhere with me, or try, God, at least TRY to get back together. But you never called, you never forgave me for what I did. How was I to presume that you were just gonna open your arms wide and say 'It's alright, let's go back out?"

She put her free hand on my arm, as if to shush me. "Jake, . . ." She hesitated, afraid to speak. "Jake, I loved you. I . . . I still do. I would have forgiven you. I wanted you back, I wanted to help you. I just thought that after I, you know, let Tom get away with the cube, you would never trust me again. With the mission, with your emotions, not trust me at all."

I considered that for a moment. I wanted to be honest, but I wasn't sure how I was going to feel until I spoke. "Cassie, you're right about that. Or, I should say, you_were_ right. Yes, I used to feel I couldn't trust you. I felt betrayed," I said simply.

"But Cassie, if I could have been stopped from killing Tom at the last battle, I would be so much happier now. I see now why you let him get away, why you stopped me from killing him then. You saw how miserable I would have been, killing my own brother. Not just so the Yeerks would see the possibilities of morphing and want peace... you did it for me."

I couldn't talk anymore. The knot tightened in my throat and threatened to burst. This was just way too much reality for one afternoon.

Cassie stayed quiet. Waited patiently for me to compose myself. I looked her in the eyes.

"Cassie?"

"Yeah?"

"You want to go out for a coffee . . . Or something?"

"Yeah."

" . . . Cassie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

* * *

We left the lot for the nearest Starbucks and ignored the looks from the customers who recognized us. We took our coffees to the park and walked around the pathway that looped the area. For the most part, we didn't say anything. Which was cool. It wasn't the awkward silence that I had become accustomed to with Cassie. It was like old times, where we didn't  
have to say anything, didn't need to.

I felt an urge to ask her what this meant. Were we together again? Or just on speaking terms? But I couldn't ask that, could I? I shook my head in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Cassie asked, seeing my sudden movement.

I looked her plainly in the eye. "Would it be truly terrible if I kissed you right now?"

Cassie's eyes widened and her lips parted with surprise. I was blushing furiously. I should have just asked if we were back together. Cassie moved toward me. I jerked in shock as her arms slid around my neck.

"Well, not too terrible, no." she replied bravely.

I took this as my cue and pressed my lips to hers. Just like I remembered. Everything the same. I took her into my arms. She broke the kiss and laid her head on my chest. I rested my chin on her head.

Awwwwww, ain't that just the sweetest?

My eyes widened. "Marco!" I whispered furiously. Cassie and I broke apart, embarrassed, but trying not to show it.

You rang?

Suddenly it all clicked into place.

"Oh. My. God. You knew, didn't you? Or at least guessed. You knew that sooner or later an episode like this would come along. Even two years ago you knew."

Well . . . Yeah. with a fluttering sound, he landed on a nearby branch.

Then it clicked for Cassie, too "That's why you made the show before asking permission. You could have saved a lot of money on episode 26 if you had asked us ahead of time. But you wanted us to see it, didn't you!"

Marco made a little Osprey bow. Guilty as charged.

"Hey, Marco?"

Hmm?

"Thanks." I said in a stage whisper.

Hey, I told you I was your bestest buddy in the whole, wide world, didn't I?

* * *

"Hey, Jake? Why don't we ever, like, do anything together?"

"What?" A trick question.

We were at a California State Arbor Day rally. I was just going to sleep in, but Cassie begged me to make an appearance, telling me it would be great for publicity.

So, here we were, sitting in hard folding chairs on a raised platform, in front of a crowd of cheering environmentalists. Cassie was in heaven.

She threw the question at me just as the Governor stepped up to the podium.

"What do you mean? We're here together, aren't we?"

She looked at me coyly. "Yeah, but only 'cause I made you go. When's the last time we, I don't know, went to a movie, for example."

I looked at the sky, pretending to be lost in thought. "Let's see, a movie? I think the last time is when we had to drag Ax out of the theatre, while he was almost in tears over losing his popcorn box. Why do you ask?"

She smiled. "Jake . . . You know that's not what I mean." She said sternly.

"All right, all right. We'll go to a movie."

"And?"

"Dinner?"

"And?"

"Coffee back at my place?"

"Now you're getting warmer." She said as the Governor announced her and she strode toward the podium. Completely in her element.

"Coffee. Always with the coffee..." I muttered.

* * *

The movie was a waste. Of course, I did the gentleman thing and let her pick the film. So I had to sit through two and a half hours of women crying.

Okay, so it wasn't all like that. But she picked this, like, Barbara Striesand-slash-Bridges of Something County-slash-Whispering to a Horse guy-slash-Lifetime for Women motif. Hell, I was almost crying because the thing had NO PLOT.

Afterwards, we agreed that simpler was better and just grabbed some Mickey-Dee's and brought it back to my place.

I slumped down in my favorite chair while Cassie opened the bag. "Head's up." she tossed me a burger and pulled out a bag of fries for herself.

"Thanks." We ate quietly, then I got up to make some coffee.

"So, how do you take yours?"

"Huh?"

I smiled. "Your coffee."

"Oh, that. Um . . . like my men." she said with a playful grin.

"Hot and black?" I asked finishing the old joke. I was confused.

"Nope. Light and sweet."

We both laughed. I walked away so she couldn't see me blush.

"I like what you've done with this place." She called from the living room.

In the kitchen, I smirked, "What are you talking about? You've never been here before."

I walked into the room carrying two mugs of steaming coffee, both light and sweet.

"Well, yeah I know. But isn't that what people are supposed to say when they come to a new house?"

I smiled, "Sure, Cassie."

She grinned over her cup and leaned back. I moved from the chair to next to her on the sofa. She leaned towards me and placed her head on my shoulder with a sigh.

I felt like time was standing still.

"It's odd," I spoke up. "It's like, right now, I feel like I don't need anything else. Like everything I want in life, I have. A total lack of ambition. It's weird."

She pulled her head from my shoulder. She took my mug from me and set it on the coffee table next to hers. "It's like you're completely content? Like you would be fine with life if it were nothing more than this?"

I nodded numbly. She hit it right on the button.

"Yeah, me too." she said quietly. She looked up at me in that certain 'hey-Jake-kiss-me' way.

I leaned forward and kissed her softly, but then she reached around and held the back of my head, pulling me hard to her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and gripped her tightly as the kiss became more rushed. I felt her fingers in my hair and her other hand on my arm. I murmured something unintelligible and reached for her face.

Realizing things were getting a little heated, I pulled away. We were both breathing hard. Cassie looked a little dejected that I had broke our kiss, so I hugged her close and rested my head on her shoulder, feeling her do the same. We sat like that for several minutes before I gained the courage to say anything.

"Cassie, I don't . . . I mean, I'm not like, trying to make a move or anything . . ." I stammered.

She sighed. "I know, Jake. You're the perfect gentleman."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well, sometimes it is."

"How?" I asked confused. She had piqued my curiosity. "I know it's a bad thing for a guy, but aren't you glad I'm a gentleman about this stuff?"

She hid her face in my shoulder, too shy to look me in the eyes. "Not always, no. I mean, just because I'm a girl, it doesn't mean I don't want . . . that too, I'm just more  
careful about it."

"Oh." I said, numb, confused. What did she want from me?

Feeling a little embarrassed, I reached for the remote and clicked on the TV, tuning into "Whose Line is it Anyway?" Cassie leaned back into the sofa and I stretched an arm across her shoulders, none too subtly.

After a while, I felt her body become more leaden and realized she was falling asleep. I carefully pulled my arm out from behind her. I grabbed the comforter from my bed and stretched out on the couch.

Half-asleep, she laid down in front of me and cuddled up to my chest. I wrapped my arms, and the blanket, around her. Realizing that I was fading fast too, I flicked off the TV and slid my arm under her head to use as a pillow. I was quickly asleep.

And for the first time in five years . . . I didn't have a nightmare.

* * *

I woke up to a pair of lips gently touching my nose. Half dreaming, I smiled that "never-ever-ever-wanna-get-outta-bed-again" smile. Still grinning like an idiot, I opened my eyes and looked down at Cassie, warm and soft in the circle of my arms.

"Good morning, Jake." she said softly.

"Mm . . . 'morning," I mumbled.

I sighed, contentedly, and rolled onto my back, taking Cassie with me. She lay on top of me with her head buried in my chest. In moments she was asleep again. It surprised me just how much she trusted me. How she could just lie down on top of her nineteen year old boyfriend and not think for one second that he was going to pressure her into anything. I squirmed a little to get comfortable, and fell back into a blissful sleep.

Perfect.

End of Part One

* * *


	2. The Job

* * *

The Waiver 2

* * *

"Is that all you're going to do all day?"

Cassie loomed over me, her hands on her hips. I looked up at her sheepishly.

"Um . . . yes?"

I was sitting on the couch in my apartment watching the "transvestite stud" tell his/her boyfriend he was cheating on him with a traveling carnie. Cassie had walked in with a bundle of mail under her arm. (I had long since given her a duplicate key.)

"Look at this, Jake. 'Department of Defense . . . U.S. Army . . . . U.S. Air Force . . . United States Military Academy-

"But that's in New York!"

" -National Security Agency . . . CIA!'." She glared at me. "Jake, you are getting a job," she said sternly.

I sighed. "But why? I have enough money from that book to live, quite comfortably, for decades. What the heck do I need a job for? Loose my Medicare benefits?"

Cassie sat down next to me. "Jake, what's your purpose in life now? What's your reason for getting up every morning."

I sighed and looked away.

"Seriously. I know you worked hard, we all did." She stopped for a moment to let that sink in. "But, that doesn't mean you can just waste the rest of your life sitting on the couch and hanging out with your friends."

I figited. "Cassie, I always . . . I mean, since we got back together, I just sort-of assumed, . . . you know.

She smiled at me. "Yeah, I planned on us marrying too. But there's no way I'm gettin' 'hitched' to slacker-couch-potatoe. End of story."

I looked up at her half-pleading (and half-serious) "B-But, but-"

"No 'but's" Mister." She said playfully.

I slumped my shoulders in defeat.

I had to get a job.

Reaching over for the remote she muttered: "What is it with you and the Jerry Springer, geeze..."

* * *

The tour guide led me deeper into the complex. The tour guide being an Army Captain. We turned the corner and passed through several security checkpoints before reaching a lage metal door, which looked like it could withstand a nuclear blast.

"- and if you accept the army's generous offer," he said in true sales pitch style. "This would be your office, Sir."

He swung the door open and offered the room a broad sweeping gesture with his arm. Something told me this guy was getting a serious commision if he managed to hire Jake Berenson.

It had been three weeks since I was on my couch.

Happy.

Now, I roam place to turning down offers left and right. After this I had two more stops to make on the serious offers before I turned to the "B" pile. The stack of letters whose jobs were a little less tempting.

"Non-Commisioned Officer in Charge ofMarine Recruiting" (anotherwards doing promos for the Marines as a celeb.)

"Basic Training Unit Commander" (the last thing I needed was to get attached to even more kids and then send them out into the world.)

"Commander- U.S. Aircraft-Carrier 'Yorktown'" (In my book I described part of the mission on the USS George Washington, now the Navy thought they stood a chance.)

Well, the main point is, that the world saw me as the toughest human alive and every service wanted to boast that "Berenson the Badass" was their boy.

"Now, how exactly would I qualify to be an Army Public Relations Specialist?" I asked plainly. "I haven't graduated high school, Captain."

He smiled broadly. "Well, I'm glad you asked that, Sir. See with these new, shall we say, immigrants to our society, U.S. public opinion is swaying from the military. They say there's now need for us right now." He laughed nervously. "We've been, well, getting some misinformed press releases that denounce some of our more potent programs we've been develping."

He coughed and cleared his throat. "Now with these Andalite-whose-a-whatzits running around spreading THEIR ideals into human culture, Americans no longer see it acceptable for the government to have classified programs."  
He patted my shoulder. "But with your support, hopefully they'll acknowledge that things are kept top-secret for they're own personal safety.

I pondered that for a moment. "So you want me to use my good public standing to tell the people that the military is a big brother to them? Keeps them out of trouble? I don't think they'll respond well to that."

The Captain just laughed. "Sir, our studies, here at the Pentagon, show that since you've never endorsed anything before, whatever you say is gospel." He looked back down to the clipboard he was carrying.

"What's the first program I would be supporting, anyways?"

The Captain looked up. "Huh? Oh!" He quickly sorted through his papers. He stopped at one. "Here it is. Um . . . 'Bio-Weapons Testing in the North Pacific". See, these enviromentalist people are- Hey! Where are you going? Sir!"

Cassie would have killed me.

* * *

I arrived at the Twenty-nine Palms Marine Base by Hum-vee. Lately, terroism had grown into a serious problem.

It was anti-govermentalism regime who called themselves 'R.E.B.E.L.', (Radical Elements Boycotting Elitist Lies) against the DAA (Department of Andalite Affairs) REBEL believed that the DAA was slowly working the Andalites into our society to take over sneaking through the back door, Yeerk-style.

Then, there was the Holy Order of the Fist who believed I was the anti-christ who prevented eternal bliss to be brought by Yeerks, against the Protectors of the Faith who believed I was the ACTUAL christ, risen again in the form of an unknowing child.

Add on to that all the racist, beer-slugging, shotgun-toting retards of the world . . . and you have a "serious problem."

I opened the door half-way and was about to hop out when, "Bam!" The door was slammed back shut. An appolgetic corporal said very politely, "Sir, we'd appreciate it if you remained in the vehicle until this area is properly secured."

I nodded and leaned back in my seat, watching the commotion. It looked like we were an attacked force, assalting the base. Everyone in the area had their military ID's checked, then their Classified Project passes . . . then their Social Security card . . . and Driver's Licence.

"Damn! How long is this going to take, corporal!" I demanded.

The corporal looked at me plainly. "Sir, a lot of very angry people want you dead. My job is to make sure they don't succeed. Please let me do my job, Sir."

Lord help me, I was starting to like this guy.

I smiled sincerly. "I just might do that corporal. My health is in your hands."

The corporal risked a quick, fleeting smile, then returned to the task at hand. Still it was taking too long.

Twenty minutes later . . .

"Okay, Sir! We're all set."

"Are you sure? Shouldn't you cavity search them first?"

The corporal moved to his left a bit, then hesitated. "Was that a joke, Sir?"

I blinked. "God, yes, it was a joke! Now let me out of this car! It's a hundred-ten outside!"

The corporal looked at me plainly. "But, Sir, it's a dry heat."

I glared at him, then, as if on command, we both burst out laughing.

I was escorted into a large hanger with jets and Black Hawks all arranged in neat little rows. In front of me was scattered metal folding chairs. In the chairs were a hard-looking bunch of soldiers in mixed uniforms. Some had arrived in camos, others sporting white belts with gold buckles and a snappy beret. One was actually in a full dress uniform (in _this_ heat?), sloping hat and all.

The second I entered, all conversation stopped and I found thirty pairs of eyes staring at my in wonder and hero worship. I was standing in the opening to the hanger, with the sun shining behind me so all they could see was my silouette, I had my hands on my hips and my feet firmly planted wide. I realized that my dramatic posture probably wasn't helping things,  
but I was a little tense starting my new job, and that's how I stand when I feel like a situation is about to smack me in the face.

From off to the side, someone gathered their wits enough to shout: "Atten-Hooh! Officer on Deck!" The men and women quickly jumped to thier feet and a man off to the side wearing a red beret (I assumed he was the one shouting) saluted me. I walked over to him slowly and returned the salute. "Sir! Test-Project 'Team Delta-Seven' Ready for this block of instruction, Sir!" He shouted quickly. I could hardly understand what he was saying. But, I had studied enough Army manuals before arriving to know what to do.

I addressed the class. "Take seats."

Twenty-nine people obediently sat in unision with one "Thud" while the thirty-ith ran to the back of the chairs and stood at attention. Apparently the Red Beret was my second in command. A teacher's assistant or something.

"As you know your governments have chosen you, each the most capable in your country, to participate in this project. My mission is simple, take the hard-trained soldiers given to me, and teach them the aspects of the 'Tactical use of Xeno-Warfare'"

I found that a chair had been set up for me and I eased down in to it, while still talking.

"Now, I would like to remind you, you've already been through all the physical and mental training you're gonna need. This isnot basic training. I am here to teach and evaluate. Not pulverize and embarass. This is just a class and it's gonna be the toughest class in your life. But, I have full confidence that with some hard work. We'll both be just fine."

A woman wearing blue camo's and a blue beret raised her hand hesitantly.

"Yes, you?" I said pointing to her.

She snapped to attention. "Uh, Sir? If your teaching Xeno-Warfare, does that mean we can call you 'Proffesor X'?"

A few people in the group had the courage to snicker. I glared at her until she was visibly nervous. (which only took about three seconds) and then smiled. "Well, duh. Of course, you can."

This time the whole class laughed, realizing that I was not the hard, tough bad ass, the press potrayed me to be.

"Alright, have you all been screened and processed in with the Escafil? Yes? Good." I slapped my hands together and rubbed them. "Let's do it."

They never wore uniforms to my class again

End of Part 2

* * *

J-Rae-- Read the story left a review. : Whips out bullhorn :  
"EVERYONE READ SEQUEL/CONTINUATION OF #54!"  
There, happy now?

Berry-- I think KA started making her characters "out of character"  
(I know that impossible since she's the original author)  
Since book 16! I'm just trying to get them back IN character!

Elfangor-- Oh! you think that, that's sweet: Gives Elfangor a  
big sweaty hug :


	3. The Confession

* * *

The Waiver 3

* * *

"Wake up." 

" . . . . No."

"Wake up."

"Bite me . . . "

"Wake up."

"Neveeeerrrrr!" I shouted, like a battlecry. I rolled over her body, grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the bed.

"What'd you gotta say to that, huh?" I asked triumphantly.

"You're awake." Cassie replied, smiling coyly.

I pretended to be defeated and rolled off her onto the bed. "You've won this time, Gadget . . ."

She muffled her laugh into the pillow.

"I don't see why YOU don't have to get up." I said pouting.

"Because I don't have a Joooo-oooooob." She drew out the last word , mocking me.

Cassie had been continuously falling asleep on my couch, "accidentally" for the past month. So, one night I just broke down and carried her off to my bed. Since then, she'd been sleeping with me every night. Not, you know, _sleeping_, but just sleeping.

In the morning she feels obligated to wake me up two minutes before my alarm goes off to bug me.

Just wait until she gets a job with a punch-in time.

"This is so unfair, I should have gotton a job with you, out in the woods." I muttered. "I'd be nice to wake up whenever I want like you, sloth."

It was sort-of a lie. After waking me up, Cassie would aways work up an instant breakfast (because she can't cook) while I was in the shower. Then she would give me my keys, because I always forgot them, and send e off to work.

I stumbled into the shower and heard Cassie clanging around in the itchen.

A few minutes later I called out to her.

"Hey, Cassie?"

"What?" She yelled back.

"Can't I just stay home today? They won't mind me skipping one day."

"What?"

"I WANT TO SKIP!"

"UM . . . LIKE THE WIZARD OF OZ?"

I sighed and padded out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped into the kitchen. Cassie whipped around, startled, and then just stared at me. She took a quick glance down my body, visibly swallowed, then stared stoically at my face.

"Not _skip_, like 'I'm-so-happy-let's-skip', I meant skip work. Stay home." I didn't expect her to say yes. I just liked arguing with her lately. I enjoyed playing the part of the whining boyfriend as much as she liked playing the 'nag'. Just fun, not serious. Iwaited forher to say "Just eat your oatmeal and get dressed!"

She didn't. She just stared at me. She took a deep breath and then blinked at me  
confused, "What were you saying?"

I put my hands on her shoulders and spoke slowly. "Can. I. Skip. Work."

She took a moment to process. "What! No of course you can't. Now put some  
clothes on already and then come eat your oatmeal."

Did I know her or what?

Ten minutes later I was toweled and shaved and ready to start the day. At the breakfast table, Cassie kept giving me side-long glances, then looking away everytime I looked at her. At first I thought she was teasing or playing a little game with my head. But I realized she didn't think I noticed her staring at me.

After about the sixth time, I cracked. "What? What is it? Do I have oatmeal on my face or something?"

Cassie pretended to be confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said with a solemn face.

"You keep looking at me." I mumbled.

"I most certainly am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

" . . . Am not."

"Are to!"

Gotcha.

"Ah-ha she admits it!" I shouted out, as if a crowd was watching.

"Damn! I meant 'am not'!" She thudded her fist on the table and was about to say something when I grabbed her face and kissed her. She pulled away, suprised.

"What was that for?"

I just looked at her then smiled slowly. "For being the most amazing person I have ever met."

She blushed and ducked her head. It made me grin even more.

I had made her blush.

Me.

Two years ago, if someone told me I'd be having this conversation at the breakfast table with Cassie Carnet, well . . . I'd have referred them to the nearest mental health care provider.

Yet here I am.

"Hey, Cassie?"

"Yeah?" She said, still glowing from my compliment.

"Remind me to thank Marco today."

* * *

The whole ride home from work I dreaded it. 

Just when things were getting better.

No. Not better, perfect.

What would I tell her?

I couldn't have her do this. If she knew . . .

Just what the hell was I going to tell her?

* * *

Two Andalites arrived at the base, just as I was about to go home, and asked for me. Usually, I would have just ignored them and went back to my apartment to meet up with Cassie. But they said the magic words: Aximili-Esargarouth-Isthill. 

They identified themselves as Prince Caysath-something-or-other and F.O. Menderash-Posthill-Fastill. First Officer of the 'Intrepid.'

According to these Andalites, Ax's ship, the 'Intrepid' had cornered what they thought might be the Blade Ship behind a small moon in a unexplored part of the galaxy. Instead they found and an old Ion-powered ship. The Andalites version of an old clunker. On board, they had found no one. An abandoned ship.

The only proof of a previous crew? A few small samples of hair.

Colorless hair.

Polar Bear hair. . .

Ax had acted against fleet regulations and joined the off-board crew in the ship. He immeadiately grasped the significance of the hairs and called out to his ship. A split-second later the unknown ship fired, crippling the 'Intrepid' and killing a large portion of the crew. A port opened in the side of the unknown vessel and another ship emerged.

The Blade ship.

Both sped away, taking Ax with them.

Their last coordinates were in a quadrent of space claimed by a species known as the Kelbrid. A species that would not allow Andalite vessels of any kind in their territory.

Caysath's and Mederash's answer?

A Yeerk ship left over from the war.

Lightly guarded.

Easily obtainable.

Menderah would morph to human to join the operation. As for the rest of the crew, well that was for me to choose.

"More people for me to get killed . . ." I muttered, earning a confused look from the driver.

How the hell could I tell Cassie . . . that I don't want her to go with me?

End of Part 3

* * *


	4. The Stowaway

* * *

The Waiver 4

* * *

I opened the door slowly and peeked my head through looking left, then right. I pushed the door the rest of the way and I walked over to the living room.

"Cassie? You here?" I called out.

"In the bedroom!"

I found the way to my room and stood in the doorway. Cassie was sitting in front of the computer scrolling through lines and lines of text.

"-Ya know, I never found a reason to look a this hunk of confusion before, but there's this webpage called People  
write fiction about their favorite celebrities-"

"Cassie."

"- and you just have to read this one about you, it is SO funny . . ."

"Cassie!"

She turned around guiltily. "Oh, sorry Jake. I wasn't paying attention, is something wrong?" She asked smiling sheepishly.

"I . . ." How could I tell her?

She's gonna kill me for this.

"I have to go on a trip." I said lamely.

She narrowed her eyes and looked up at me, confused. "A trip? What kind of trip?"

I cleared my throat. What was I getting myself into?

"Um . . . my Delta Team unit has to go through training exercises at the South Pole. When I told them how cold it was down there, they wouldn't believe me. " I faked a laugh. "I'm gonna show them, right?"

She gave a little laugh too, knowing something was wrong.

"Yeah, so I'm gonna be gone for a little while, okay? Just a couple of days."

Liar.

"Oh, alright." She bit her lip and stood up. "Jake . . . is something wrong? Are you nervous about your Team going to the Pole?"

I faked a sigh. "Yeah, I don't think they're prepared for the Pole. But hey, if a bunch of kids can do it . . ."

Liar.

Cassie looked away for a moment. "That's okay, I have a little trip of my own."

"Oh yeah? Where"

Oh, Nevada. Enviromentalist thing. You see-"

"You know it's getting kind of late." I didn't want what was possibly my last conversation with Cassie to be an enviromentalist lecture.

"Alright, well I'm just gonna shut of the computer and head to bed now, come with?" She asked, gesturing towards the bed.

One night.

Our last night together before I left.

Possibly forever.

Should I push for it?

I looked at her trusting smile, her eyes, anticipating warm slumber in her arms . . . and something else, maybe?

Should I?

"Nah, I gotta head out tonight. I wanna get this done and over with."

* * *

"Don't give me that crap, Toby. Where the- where is he?"

"I assure you Jake. I don't know."

I had arrived at the Hork-Bajir colony, via Falcon, and contacted the nearest the nearest Hork-Bajir. He "directed" me to the Hork-Bajir headquarters. By "directed", I mean he said, "Toby at Tribe Tree. Big Tree. That way."

I shouldn't complain though, because even with those vague directions I could find the tallest tree around. Apparently, Toby had some actually transport a gigantic California Redwood, one of the largest trees in the world, smack in the center of The Hork-Bajir Territories.

When I reached the site, I actually had to flap hard to gain altitude so I could reach the Governor's Platform. A large deck circling the tree.

What was I doing in the colonies?

Tobias.

"Toby, this is for his own good. His best friend is in trouble, if he finds out that every Animorph but him went out to save Ax, he's going to feel lower than dirt."

"I am sorry, Jake." She hesitated. "While certain persons prefer that certain information not be delievered to you, I will be sure that any messages you have will be recieved." She said cautiously.

I smiled. "I knew I could count on you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

The hardest part of getting to Marco's front door was all the security. But, I found a way around that. As I and my mini-convoy of security pulled up, we were halted at the front gate. There was a general exchange of credentials, serial numbers . . . and wallet pictures?

The next thing I know, I've been completly forgotten by both S.S. Details, as they all leaned against the walls of Marco's estate smoking and swapping stories.

"Um, excuse me?"

"And then Bobbie-Boy he says, here's what he says: 'that's a pickle damnitt! What? Oh, I mean, yes Sir?"

"Just open the gate, you guys can hang here."

"Uh, yes sir, sorry sir."

The door swung open and a weary-looking old man wearing an antique butler's uniform answered. "May I help you, sirah?" he said in a fake British accent.

"Um. Yeah, okay. I'm looking for Marco Bandera. I thought he lived here." I said tersely.

"Hmph. He does. And whom may I ask is calling upon him?" The butler asked loftily. Like we didn't go through this same exact routine everytime I went to Marco's house.

"You know, when he tells you to say this crap, he's probably is just kidding. It's not like he'll actually fire you, Joe."

The butler smiled and let his Long Island accent seep through. "Yeah, but Ilike being pissy  
to celebrities and not gettin' fired for it. I'll go get the little imp for ya-"

"No, I'll just come in, where is he?"

McPherson layed on thick the British accent. "Sirrah, the Master of the House is resting  
by the pool after a long days work of . . . resting by the pool."

I smirked and walked out back to the outer pool. And found Marco demorphing . . . from lobster.

I looked up to the sky and pretended to be searching for something. "Wow I didn't notice the Lobster-Signal go off! To the fishtank, Lobsterboy!"

Marco laughed, Hey, Jake. Remember this morph?

"Yeah, but is there any good reason why you're using it?"

Ummmmm . . . I dropped my keys? At the bottom of the pool?

I quirked an eyebrow. "Well, then I guess it's a good thing you had that morph, huh? 'Cause most people, they drop their keys in the pool, they're just totally helpless. Those keys stay down there. Forever."

Marco finished demorphing. Marco gave me a strange look. "Is something wrong, Jake? You look a little peaked. It_is_ hot out. Hey, Wetherbee! Get my man a drink! What are you having?"

"That depends, if I ask for milk, you gonna morph to cow and squeeze me out a glass of two percent?"

"Hm. Okay, so I guess that means you're a coke man. Yo, two cokes!"

We sat down at the deck table, under a large umbrella. "So, what's up? We going to that concert on Saturday?"

"No."

"Really? Why the hell not?"

A shadow passed over the table. I waited for Marco to notice it and look up. He didn't have to.

"You found Tobias."

I nodded.

"You've both come here to get me."

"Yes. Ax is missing in space, we gotta go get him."

He groaned and dropped his forehead to the table with a "THUD".

"You're gonna ruin my life, arn't you?" He muttered, miserably.

"Most likely."

He raised his head and sighed. Then he gave me the Marco smirk I remembered. "So, let's get going! Where's the mission? Where's Cassie? Let's move, Big Jake!"

So that's what he's up to. My god.

End of Part 4

* * *

Whew Sorry, about taking so long with this chapter, but I've been busy . . .  
Okay so I've been drunk. Sue me. It was my sister's going-away party. And the day after  
that I had a hangover . . . and a day after that I had to sleep. Very good excuses.

A/N:

Amanda: The book loves YOU too!

LunaticClown: Here's the next chapter . . . just promise not to hurt me (flinches)

J-Rae: Thanks, bud! Keep it up with your sequel!

Raspberry: From the very beggining Jake was discribed as "a big sleepy kid" who  
"never really applied himself" (quotes from the books) I figured that was KA telling  
us that Jake was slow and lazy, but got it done (sloppily) in the end.

Thanks for all the reviews my favorite people!


	5. The Mistake

* * *

The Waiver 5

* * *

We lounged at Marco's house for five minutes, while he called all the banks to close his accounts and told his lawyer to activate his will. All his possesions pretty much went to his parents and a few charities.

Marco had met a few women during his time as a celebrity, but wasn't too interested in a relationship. He had confided to me once, that he could never find a girl who could insult him as well as Rachel. "I mean, come on, I'm not totally maschoshistic, but it would be nice to find the one girl in Hollywood who_didn't_ go to remedial classes in high school."

Well, back to reality. I shook myself out of my reverie and spoke up.

"Oh, come on Marco. Is that really nessasary?" I asked, absentmindedly batting away a fly. It gently landed on my shoe. I was about to squish it with the sole of my other shoe when I suddenly flashed to an old memory of being swatted in fly morph. I shuddered and left the thing alone.

"Jake. Let's cut the crap. Most likely we're gonna be gone for a long while."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. Most likely we're all going to die a horrible fiery death?"

I just smiled.

"You're sick, man. You're just sick in the head."

I started to walk away. Marco and Tobias followed. "Okay, now we have to head down to my work."

"Why? You want to leave a two week notice?"

I chuckled. "No we have to get two volunteers from the Delta-"

"What?" Marco interrupted. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. "What did you just say?"

"What? I said we have to get two volunteers."

"Why so we can ruin more lives? What the_hell_do we need two extra people for?" He looked genuinely angry.

I shrugged and tried to defend myself. "We don't know what we're up against. I got some tough soldiers in my Team. They could come in handy." I said lamely.

Then something in Marco clicked. "Oh . . . I get it. You have Tobias, me and you." He said counting off on his fingers. "Add to that this Mender-whatever and then two others?" He stopped with six fingers up. "Jake, is it really nessasary?"

I tried to joke it off. "Hey, it's the magic number. Wouldn't want bad karma, now." I kept walking. Marco just stared at me, then followed, dropping the subject.

I looked down to kill that fly.

"Lucky little . . ." he was gone.

* * *

I stepped into the hanger and mentally steeled myself. This was going to be tough. I had called out to my NCOIC and told him to assemble the Team. Now they were all sitting or standing in small groups, drinking coffee and whispering to each other. Every few seconds, one of them would quickly sneak a glance at me, then look away.

When the last man arrived, I spoke out. "Alright, everybody to your seats. Let's go, come on. Okay everybody's here? Good," I said, getting the affirmative from my NCO aka the red beret man.

I took a deep breath and began. "People, we've been together a while now. And I think that I can trust you enough with a secret."

Everyone laughed then, since the entire Delta Team was one big secret in itself.

I gave a fake smile. "I am about to go on a dangerous mission-"

"The quest for a sense of humor!" a voice from the back.

"Dangerous? There is no onewho will send the great P.X. on a dangerous mission." another voice, this one with a Brazillian accent.

"- and I'm going to need two volunteers-" I continued, used to their frequent taunts.

"Yeah, to 'old the two ends 'o the 'ammok durin' yer cushy job, ya fibber!"

I continued quickly, before they could interupt. "Your actions will be denounced by your governments, there will be no pay, no benefits, no medals, a good chance of being arrested and a better chance of being killed. Your families will not be  
notified and you leave right now."

That shut them up.

A hand slowly raised. Then another. And another.

The whole team volunteered. No one had their hand down.

"Okay, I get the point, put your hands down."

Knowing they would do this, I had pre-marked some files with certain information highlighted. Their next of kin.

"Jeanne, Santorelli? Congratulations. Now follow me."

I didn't bother saying goodbye to the team, they all knew how I felt about them and I left it at that. They pretended to go back to thier coffee, but I could feel them staring at me as I walked out of the hanger.

We made it back to the Hum-Vee and the truck that we "borrowed" from the motor pool, where Marco, Tobias and Menderash were waiting. Marco looked up.

"Geeze. What the heck took you so-" he stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed my two volunteers.

Or more specifically, he noticed Jeanne.

He looked at me slyly.

I shook my head frantically. He just leered and nodded.

"Hello, I appologize for my rudeness. A lady should never have to hear such harsh words." he said grabbing Jeanne's hand and bending to kiss it.

Jeanne snatched her hand back, just before Marco's lips reached her knuckles. "Zen, I vill be sure not to utter such profaniteez in your presence."

Marco's eyebrows raised and he gave me a genuinely happy smile. "Wow, Jake. You actually found the gift for the guy who has everything! Thanks man!"

Jeanne gave Marco a disapproving glance and then turned to me. "Proffesor? Are all ov your friendz compleete ee-diots?" she asked calmly.

Marco opened his mouth to speak, but I raised a hand to silence him. Then I pointed to the vehicles. "Everyone in, now."

We crammed into the two vehicles and made our way towards the drop point. The plan was simple: A yeerk ship with no crew was guarded by two Andalite Warriors in an open field. The guards were told they were to wait for a turncoat terrorist who wanted immunity in exchange for the locations of several terrorist arms supply storage and the names of the arms dealers marketing off the terrorist's rage.

No turncoat.

Just six shipjackers.

We piled out of the truck and met up with Menderash, Jeanne and Santorelli, who had ridden in the Humvee.

"Okay, Santorelli, Jeanne? It's crunch time. Let's see how much you two paid attention in class. We have an Andalite shuttle up ahead, only two Andalites inside. They were instructed to park their ship here and wait for a terrorist turncoat with some serious vital info. They're our ride."

Marco looked up at Jeanne. "Hi, I don't think I introduced myself properly before. I'm Marco. I have my own T.V. show. You may worship me if you wish."

"Remember, these guys are innocent. I don't want anyone going to the ER over this. Just give 'em a good pop upside the head and we'll take the ship."

Jeanne raised her hand, as if she was still in my class. "Six against two? This iz perhaps ovarkeel?"

Marco looked coyly at Jeanne. "Keel. Ovar-keel." he echoed. "I love that accent. It's so, how you say? . . . 'how you say'." he said with a wink.

Menderash scoffed and tilted his head, "They are Andalites, six is hardly enough." he muttered.

I smiled at him. "It's all in what morph you choose, trust me."

I rubbed my hands together and looked over at Tobias, nervous. "Tobias, go Andalite." I said calmly, as if I knew he would follow my orders, which I didn't.

I had long come to grips with the reality of Rachel's death. It took a lot of time and a lot of_long_ talks with Cassie. But I found the truth.

It wasn't my fault.

However, when Tobias flew out to my house after meeting with Toby, he hadn't said anything to me. He just showed up and we left for Marco's together.

Tobias looked at me with his human eyes. And in that moment, I felt the true force of his pain. In an instant, I knew that if had lost Cassie after all we had re-built . . .

Cassie.

I was broken out of my thoughts when Tobias nodded at me, noticing the look on my face and immediately began demorphing to Hawk, then straight to Andalite, with no rest between morphs. I think he was trying to tell me that any orders I gave he would now follow with no hesitation. I felt like things were coming back together.

The magic number.

Marco chose this sweet moment as a perfect time to resume whining. Which he had been doing the whole ride here.

"Ya know, I don't see why you and I can't just retire to Florida. I mean, come on, golf isn't so bad. Personally, I LIKE bingo. Why do we always have to go to war, huh? I wanna play a different game, Jake."

I just smiled at him. "It's like lotto, you have to be in it to win."

Marco just shook his head and started morphing to Gorrilla, I had already informed Tobias, Menderash and Marco of the game plan. Only Santorelli and Jeanne would be clueless until we were on-board and they couldn't take back their decision.

Cruel, I know.

We crept over to the back of the ship, being careful to avoid their sensor probes. Marco quietly clambered up on top of the ship and waited.

All set here. He reported.

"Okay," I whispered. "Tell Tobias to begin."

Yo, bird-brain! Let's go! He yelled over to Tobias.

"Oh, great. Make him mad, nice idea, Marco." I muttered.

Tobias yelled out to the ship at the top of his thoughtspeak range and "voice".

Help! Help me! Andalite vessel, I am in need of assistance!

The seamless hatch of the shuttle hissed open and two Andalites galloped down the extended ramp.

One of them spoke up. I am not sure. I believe I heard something, but it was very faint.

The other yelled out, Hello? You are in need of our assistance? I must inform you that no one is authorized in this area!

Wait! What's that? It looks like one of ours, Mithstill!

Where? I do not see anything.

There. On the horizon.

The Andalites focused all four eyes at the horizon, peering at the sillouette of Tobias, running across the hills.

They didn't see Marco creep behind them.

And they certainly didn't see him introduce their skulls together.

We raced into the ship and waited for Tobias while Menderash took the controls. "Rookies," he muttered. "What fool would use all four eyes on one target. An Aristh's mistake."

Tobias arrived and demorphed to make more elbow room. Andalite shuttles were mostly equipped with a crew of two and either a cargo or passenger. Not six humans.

I patted Menderash on the shoulder, "Take us up."

"Uh . . . Jake?" Marco asked, from somewhere behind me.

I sighed. "Marco, can you just shut it 'til we get there? When we reach the ship, you can complain all you want, I promise . . ."

Marco hesitated. "Jake? I think you should turn around, buddy."

It was his tone. I knew before he even spoke up.

Crap.

Without turning around, I stood up straight and stiffened.

"Hello, Cassie."

End of Part 5

* * *

Review Response:

J-Rae- Hmmmm. I wonder who spoke that last line? (here's a hint: look at the  
title of the last chapter . . . figured it out yet?) ;)

Raspberry- How do you know if that's what I have planned huh? (pouts) lol  
If you're really interested in the following plot developments, you may have noticed that I  
slipped some foreshadowing in the previous chapters to hint at where this story's REALLY  
going. (example: the last line in quotation marks in chapter 2 and others) check it out.  
See if you can point out the other FS lines!

Gorrable: A new Reviewer oh goodie! I'm writing as fast as I can!  
I'm gonna try and make sure that the waiver is on every time you click  
the animorphs you'll NEVER have to click the next button.

A/N: Before writing this fic, I set up 3 ground rules:

1. I can only change the actions of the character who's in first person. Like the Ketran, I made  
one small change to the story (the waiver) and showed how that one legal document could change  
Animorphs history (I won't tell you how yet, cause I don't wanna give it away). So you're  
NOT going to see the Elimist flash-bang in and say "all right, everything's cool now!"

2. I will not introduce any new major characters.

3. I believe that KA went way too fast with her last book. Her last hurrah should have been  
as large as the Andalite Chronicals, but instead it seemed like she just wanted to get it  
over with. ("Okay, so, like, then TWO YEARS passed and nothing really happened . . .") I want to  
detail as much as possible the last chronicle of the Animorphs (and possibly continue on  
to #55, #56, #57 . . . ect.)


	6. The Begining

* * *

The Waiver 6 ((((AKA: The Fluff Strikes Back . . .))))

* * *

I turned around. She was staring at me with pure anger. I've seen that look before and backed down.

Not this time.

It was a matter of life and death.

"Cassie, I don't know how much you understand of what's going on here, but you have to get off of this shuttle right now." I warned.

She placed her hands on hers hips. "Do I? Do I really?"

"Captain, we must hurry, before the authorities arrive." Mendernash interjected.

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about me. "Yeah, just wait for Cassie to get off first." I said glaring at her.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jake." She said firmly.

"You don't know what you're getting into!"

"I know enough. Enough to know that you don't either!" she stuck her finger in my face, accusingly.

It was a total standoff in the cramped little room. Menderash was patiently waiting to move our hijacked ship into Earth orbit before the cops showed up. Our little team was packed into the stolen shuttle, with Menderash at the control and Santorelli at  
the weapons console (not that we'd use them) with Jeanne at his side. Marco, Tobias, Cassie and I were standing in a cramped little square. Marco and Tobias facing each other . . . and Cassie and I squaring off.

"Cassie, Ax is-"

"I know, his ship is missing and was last seen with the Blade ship."

I nodded. How long had she been tagging me?

"What I don't know is why you lied to me, Jake." She said shaking her head.

"Cassie, I- I_had_ to."

She just stared at me.

"Cassie, you don't belong here, on this mission," I continued. "You should be home. I- war it's a life for me, a part of who I am. Not who you are. You should be _home_."

"Excuse me?"

"I couldn't let you come along on this one. The alien craft completely wrecked Ax's ship. Menderash here was the only survivor. I- you're doing what you need to do back home. I'm . . . replacable. You're not."

"Not to me. I couldn't replace you."

"That's not impor-"

"Jake." She interrupted quickly, "Don't you say 'that's not important' because if you do I don't think I could deal with you anymore. Could you replace ME? Is that not important to you! I can't believe you were going to let me find out where you really went on the news tomarrow!" she yelled.

I went on the offense now, "Yes, it IS important to me! That's why I lied, to protect you!" The others were trying not to watch the drama unfold, but when you're in a shuttle the size of a large bathroom, there's no such thing as privacy. "Damn it, Cassie! Can't you see I did it because . . . because I love you." I finished, practically pleading with her to understand.

Cassie stopped then. Tears were streaming down her face.

And I guess I was crying a little too.

I reached up a hand to touch her face, but she pulled away.

"Jake, if you really love me, then realize that me living alone on Earth without you, is worse than a million deaths out in space_with_ you."

I didn't say anything.

She took a deep breath. "Now take us up to the ship, Jake." her lip quivered a bit, and I could tell she was unsure whether I would listen to her or not . . .

Forgive me.

Someone, please.

But I can't do it . . .

I can't do this without her.

"Menderash, let's go." I whispered.

Cassie dove into my arms, and I lifted her up to eye-level. She kissed me then, pure and sweet and loving. I pulled my face from hers and rested it on her shoulder, holding her tightly as I felt her legs wrap around my waist. She was quietly sobbing on my shoulder and I had my face buried in her neck.

Jeanne and Santorelli stared, amazed that the great Professor X had been knocked down a peg. Finally understanding . . . I was only human.

"I can't believe I almost lost you," Cassie said, muffled. "After we've come so far."

I rocked us from side to side. Oh, god, what have I-

"Ahem." Marco interjected.

Cassie and I ignored him, until I saw put his hand up to his mouth. "Marco, if you cough or give us anymore 'subtle' hints, you're going to be wearing your lower intestine as a necklace, got me?"

Jeanne and Santorelli grinned at each other and stopped staring.

Marco slowly lowered his hand and nodded quickly.

After a moment, and a quick kiss, I set Cassie down and turned to the view screen to watch our assent. We were making our way out of the atmosphere, when Marco deemed it time to continue being an idiot.

"I was just going to tell you that your bouncing around happily in this tiny room got me a kick in the ear from Cassie . . ."

"'Bouncing around happily?'" I asked. "I don't bounce."

"-which is why you got no game on the court."

Cassie smiled at Marco. "It was on purpose."

Marco raised a finger and opened his mouth to retort, but I interrupted. "Come on, you guys, settle down."

Marco just looked at me, then shrugged and searched for someone else to bug.

He smiled sinisterly, finding a new victim.

"You know, I could be a sort of mentor to you," he said, hovering around Jeanne. "If we  
work together, I'm sure I could teach you a lot of things."

"Like what exactly? How to repel all things female?" She said, raising an eyebrow.

Marco continued as if she had said nothing. "Now, you do realize that there will be a  
small fee for my services. But, saying as I'm a millionaire," he bragged. "-you'll just  
have to think of something besides money to repay me with."

Jeanne smiled. "I have the perfect thing."

Marco leered. "And what's that?" he asked, setting her up for the joke. Knowing she would attack him.

"My friend Michelle! She loves short men, perhaps not as short as yourself. But as a personal favor to me, I'm sure she will consider you."

His eyes widened and he gestured to her. "Do you see this, Jake. My god! She's perfect! Thank you, again. Oh, by the way, when you're not busy, could you pull this spear from my chest?"

Marco and Jeanne carried on like that for a while and I pretty much ignored everyone until we got into orbit.

Santorelli was staring out the viewscreen, like a kid in Disney world. Hardened veterans, Marco, Tobias, Menderash and I barely even paid attention, while Cassie spoke to him quietly.

"Objective locked in, Captain." Menderash soon reported stiffly.

"Alright, get us there. I wanna see what she looks like." I said quickly.

She was about the size of five or six school buses cubed, which was really only about 1/4th the blade ship's size. She had tapered edges and a deadly, aggressive appeal to her. Like a black widow spider. She was silver and dynamic and terrible. God help me, I loved that ship. I felt sick knowing the Yeerks had created something that beautiful.

Sick for those I killed.

I shook the dark thoughts out of my head.

No, I'm over that now.

"Latch on, Menderash, I want to get inside before someone wonders what we're doing."

Menderash hesitated. Being an Andalite, I figured there would be problems with him following my orders. "Is there something wrong?" I asked in a low, smooth voice.

"No, Captain, however . . ." he seemed embarrassed. "An Andalite custom dictates that a ship must be named before it is boarded. The idea being that the ship must know who IT is before it knows it's crew."

I nodded. "She. On Earth a ship is always a "she" not an "it". Even when she's named after a guy."

We all stared at our new home, sillouetted against the sun peeking over Earth's horizon.

"So, what are we going to call it?" Marco asked.

"She's beautiful . . . She's beautiful and dangerous and exciting." I looked over at Tobias. He had morphed to human, and seemed mesmyrized by the ship. He looked over at me and smiled gently. "Jake?"

Marco looked at the both of us, confused for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "She would love it. A scary, deadly, cool-looking Yeerk ship on a doomed, suisidal, crazy mission that no one can ever know about? She would love it."

It was Cassie who had the guts to christen her aloud.

"The Rachel . . . " she whispered softly.

End of Part Six

* * *

Review Response:

J-Rae: I'm a-typing, I'm a-typin'! I can only go so fast, you taskmaster!

Fallan: I wonder if "Nice" is slang for: "Oh my god! Write more soon before I kill myself  
waiting!" . . . Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what that means.

mickEmousina: I'm a J/C fan, definately. But I can't stand R/T. They never should have happened  
EVERYONE knows Marco and Rachel were supposed to be together! I was reading book #2 and saying  
to myself "It'll go away, Marco WILL have her!" Then I read #7 and I swear to god I screamed  
"She HUGGED him! Damn it!" right in the middle of Waldenbooks.

LunaticClownGirl: Watches Lunatic for a moment, learning the steps . . . then jumps into  
the "happy dance" with her "Hmmmm . . . Kinda like the Macarana, but with more rear grabbing."

RaspberryGirl: Looks around for ani-fanatics and whispers "KA screwed up in the end, she  
just really wanted to get it over with. She said to herself, "I know! I'll make the Yeerk  
captain a follower of a new religeon, and then have his god show up . . and then make him  
incrredibly invincable . . . and then give him a ass-kicking ship! Let's see how the fan-fic  
authors deal with this! Bw-hahahahaha!" Early looks over her shoulder to see a horde  
of KA cult members with cudgels racing towards her "Blasphemy!"

WUJustice: Thank you, it's nice to find people who review the story objectively. Thankfully,  
all of my readers take thier reviewing very seriously and I have yet to hear, "That sucks,  
write porn!"

Gorrable: Well, yes actually. It was one of the "Foreshadowing lines" I mentioned in  
my last reviewers corner. I didn't want to explain that she was the fly, because I figured  
you guys (and Jake) would figure it out on your own (which you DID!)

Gorrable(AGAIN!): Yeah, I know, that chick is just messed up. (How did you review the same  
chapter twice!)


	7. The Proposal

* * *

The Waiver 7 AKA: The Fruits of a Hassled Author's Labor After a Week of Procrastination

* * *

"One, two, one, two. Get it on! Listen to the shit because we kick it til dawn!"

It was disturbing.

"-Listen to the Abstract, got it goin' on!"

Here we were out in the middle of space on a ship bound for nowhere . . . and I still had loud neighbors.

"Marco, turn that crap down!" I yelled. We had spent the past four days on the "Rachel" and were heading for the Unknown ship'slast coordinates. Thankfully, the Rachel had been stocked with plenty of freeze-dried goods, Andalite touch-screen "books" and six dozen cinnimon buns.

Not for the first time, I wondered if Andalites had a sense of humor.

I had assigned rooms and "shifts" to live and work in. Because there was no day or night in space, we called it the Alpha shift and the Bravo shift. I was on the Alpha shift with Marco and Tobias. Cassie, Menderash, Santorelli and Jeanne were on the Bravo shift. Jeanne insisted on being separated from Marco. However, I figured that if we were here longer than a couple days, I would switch around the people on the shifts so we didn't have to deal with the same people every day. We were cranky, bored, and pretty much at each others throats.

I was in my quarters_trying_ to skim through a Andalite "book" left behind which translated English to Galard. Might as well learn Galard since this isn't Star Trek where everyone speaks english.

Listening to Marco's music blaring the next room over . . . I wanted to switch the shifts NOW.

Marco waited until the perfect moment to pop through my door and sing along to the music off key: "Like Ma Belle, I got the ill communication! Ma Belle! Got the ill communication-"

I leapt out of bed and chased him down the narrow hall. For someone with short legs, the little punk was fast. Finally, I cornered him on the bridge.

"You're dead now, monkey-boy." I growled.

Marco just smiled. "Bring it on kitty . . ."

I was just about to tackle him and give him a charley horse to beat all charley horse's previous, when Menderash at the helm, interrupted. "Sir, as much as I also wish Marco bodily harm, I think you should wait."

I grinned menacingly, "And just why should I?"

"Because we're there."

I called everyone out of the various activities of reading, eating, watching DVD's and sleeping. We all gathered on the bridge.

"On screen." I ordered, true Star Trek style.

Menderash complied. The view screen activated showing . . . nothing. Menderash double-checked the coordinants and found that we were at least six light years away from the nearest star system.

Disbelieving, I ordered Menderash to do a final scan of the area. When he found nothing, we turned the ship around and headed to . . . well, wherever. It occured to me that you can't randomly jump around a billion square light years and just happen to find what you're looking for.

I left the bridge, tense and, yes, a little disapointed. I walked to what we called "Conjuction Junction". The Bridge hallway branched off into four diffent hallways with a scrap of paper labeling them crudely duct-taped to the archway of each entrance.

"Hall #1 - The Mess," with a picture of a crudely drawn cinnimon bun.

"Hall #2 - Sleeping Quarters-ZZZzzzz" Where the bedrooms, laundry room (and a small room with metal walls that we didn't really use or know the purpose of) were located. We called the metal-walled room the "Foil Hat" room, because Marco said the Yeerks created it so anyone in the room could be protected from alien telepathy.

"Hall #3 - Docking Bay" Which was so large, we used it as a gym/rec room.

"Hall #4 - The Pool" This is where the original Yeerk pool for this ship was located. We emptied it out and disabled the Kandrona Energy Convertor. The Andalites had installed toilets and showers (with no stalls) and attached hoses to the pool, so it could be filled with recycled water and actually WAS a pool.

There was also an elevator which led down to the Engine room, a Science lab and a bay with four Bug fighters lined up in a row and a large force-field protected door which opened to the outside.

I headed towards "Sleeping Quarters-ZZZzzzz" (Marco wrote the labels) and went straight to the laundry room to pick up my set of night clothes. We had the Andalites stock some clothing of ours beforehand. They were able to sneak in four sets of clothing each . . . and no shoes.

"Just like the old days . . ." I muttered to myself while stripping of my shirt.

Marco was in his room, Tobias had headed straight for the cafeteria and Cassie, Santorelli and Menderash had gone to the sleeping quarters. So I took a quick look around to see if anyone was about to head out of their rooms.

When Marco cranked the music back up, I stripped off my pants and pulled a new pair out of the dryer.

"What's just like the old days?" I whipped around to find Cassie leaning against the doorframe, yawning and stretching.

I spent about three seconds being embarassed, then answered her. "No shoes, you know?"

She stopped yawning and seemed to notice that I was standing there in my boxers. Her gaze panned down. "Oh my god, Jake, I didn't . . . Sorry!" She jumped out of the doorway and walked quickly away, in the direction of her room.

I sighed. "It's okay, Cass." I called out. "You've seen me in shorts and towels before, this is no biggie. I mean it's not like-" I cut off when I noticed a slight breeze . . .

My boxer's fly was open.

Oh, crap.

* * *

A/N: Hey Raspberry! How's THAT for a cliff "hanger"? Hahahahahaha!

I was gonna make this part of the next chapter, but what the hell, I'll keep going:

* * *

I went to go find Cassie (buttoning up and putting on pants first) and found her in her room. She was sitting on her bed staring at a wall when I walked in.

"Hey, Cass." She turned her back to me, embarrassed. I sat down next to her and grabbed her hand.

"Cassie, it's okay. No biggie, right? I mean you were gonna see something like that sooner or later." I tried to laugh my way through it. Suprisingly, she was blushing more than I was.

She turned around and smiled faintly. "Oh, I was, huh?"

"Well, yeah if you're gonna marry me someday."

Her smile faded, "Jake, we talked about this-"

"And you said we could talk about it in one year. It's been _three_!"

"I said, if you felt the same way, we could talk about it." she said, looking up at me expectantly.

I let go of her hand and looked down at my socks. "You're right, I don't feel the same way."

Cassie's face fell. "What? But, I thought-"

I raised a hand, silencing her. "If I felt the same way, I wouldn't be in your room right now. We'd be strangers, hanging on what might have been, instead of what is. I'm a different man now, so of course I'd feel differently about you, Cassie."

Why the hell was I telling her this?

I paused for a moment, unsure about if I should go on. This was uncharted territory.

"Back then, I thought I knew what love was. In a way I did. I knew how to accept love," I shrugged. "But I didn't know how to give it, how to show it. I DO love you Cassie, but now I'm not using that love against you and against me too." I hoped she understood.

Because I sure as hell didn't.

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close.

I didn't know what the hell I was doing . . .

I pulled away and got off the bed.

She looked up at me, confused.

I swallowed hard.

"Cassie, this feels too right. I'm sorry, but I have to do this." I said in a shaky voice.

I knelt down in front of her and took both her hands in mine.

"Cassie, I'm sorry for everything I've put you through-"

"Jake, you don't have to appologize," She took one of her hands back and placed it on my cheek.

"Yes, yes I do." I continued. "Everytime you tried to help me, I pushed you away. I was . . . afraid. Of you, of us. But I'm not scared anymore." She smiled down at me.

"Cassie, I asked you to be with me once before, and I did it all wrong. I saw a glimpse of our future, a future apart, and I was desperate." Is shifted on my knees, uncomfortable.

"Now I ask you not because I can't imagine life without you, but because I've_lived_ life without you . . . and it pretty much sucks." We both laughed then, breaking the tension.

I spoke up while she was still laughing. "Cassie. Marry me."

She stopped laughing.

End of Part Seven 7

* * *

And now, (so I don't get in trouble) A short Fic!

The Forgotten Character

He paced through the streets, restlessly.

His thoughts wandered from scene to scene, not really being able to focus on one memory.

Playing. Him. Answering to his call. Bringing him his-.

Then, nothing.

How could he have disapeared so quickly?

Where did everyone go?

For two years, he was ignored. As if he was invisible.

Now, he prowls the streets.

An old man walks by, noticing the look of dejection on his face.

"Now, what's yer problem buddy?" the old man asks, kindly.

He doesn't answer, but stops to listen to the old crazy, anyway.

"Oh, so you're just gonna stand there, gaping huh? Well, at least tell me yer name, there  
fella . . ."

The old man reaches for his neck and reads aloud.

"Homer, huh? Well, collar 'er not, you sure LOOK like a stray."

The old man looks around cautiously, then walks away, whistling to the dog to follow him.

(fine)


	8. The Promise

* * *

The Waiver 8 (AKA: The End of Early's Well-Earned VACATION!)

* * *

The silence was unbearable.

She took a deep breath and stared at me with those eyes. Eyes that have seen so much pain.

"Cassie?" I prompted.

She started to speak, then stopped.

I attempted a smile. "Hey, now. Don't leave me hanging here. If you're going to say no, then drop the axe already."

She shook her head. "I'm just trying to figure out how to say . . . yes."

I pulled my hands from hers and cupped my face, leaning back. "Ah, yesss!" I hissed.

"Yes." she echoed.

I dropped my hands, opting to use them more efficently.

She laughed when I grabbed her by the waist and stood up.

"Cassie, I don't know how we're going to pull this off on a ship, but we ARE getting married."

Cassie pressed her cheek against my chest. "I love seeing you like this." she said, her voice muffled.

"Like what?" I asked, self-conciously.

She shrugged and pulled away. Not too far away, just within my grasp.

"Like an idiot in love?" I ventured, bravely.

She beamed and yeah, blushed a little. "Something like that."

We just held each other then, not wanting this moment- without fear, without pain, without guilt, -this perfect moment, to end.

Back in the war days, we were all each other had. When I really think about it, just when I started to push Cassie away, is just when I started to lose control.

I sighed. "So now what do we do."

"I dunno. Never been engaged before. Have you?"

"Engaged." I repeated, letting the word roll off my tongue. "I like how that sounds."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh great, I agreed to marry Ax."

"En-gage-eh-duh. Duh."

She started to laugh, but I put an end to that quick.

Cassie put her arms around my neck, pulling me deeper into the kiss.

I don't know what I would have done if she had said no. What I would have done with myself.

I willed the image from my mind. No need to think like a desperate man anymore.

Cassie said yes.

* * *

Since we had moved onto the ship, Cassie and I had both agreed to not sleep in the same bed anymore. Not with the others around.

That night, the rules were tossed out the proverbial window.

In her room, the lights off, the sound of our breathing.

I lay behind her, silently.

Cassie's head was resting on my left arm, my right around her waist. I watched the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed in and out.

Was she still awake? Only one way to be sure.

I gently kissed the back of her neck.

She stirred and slowly turned around.

"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?"

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Yeah, on purpose."

Guiltily, I smiled. "Okay, you got me."

"Men," she scoffed. "They can't even be left alone long enough to sleep! Just causing all kinds of mischief."

Mischief. So many things I could say to that.

Instead, I just raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Jake . . ." she warned.

"Cassie." I said in the same patronising tone.

I gathered her close to me, accidentally making myself aware of just how warm her body was. How good she smelled. How-

I swallowed. Bad idea.

Hoping Cassie wouldn't notice my little. . . well, okay not _so_ little, predicament, I chastly kissed her on the forehead and slowly rolled so my back was facing her.

From somewhere behind me I heard a snicker.

Great. So she knew.

"Hey, it's not my fault you know." I defended myself. "I can't help it, okay?"

I felt her lips moving against my neck as she spoke. "Jake, it's okay. It happens. It's . . . natural and I'm sure-"

"Oh geeze, please don't start talking like my parents!"

We both laughed. "Well, how am I supposed to make you feel better."

All guys are alike. I'll admit it. We all think the same. But I had always believed that no matter what you're thinking, the only thing that seperates a gentleman from a pervert is how he acts on these thoughts.

I'm a gentleman. So, I remained silent and let that one slide.

When I didn't speak up, she gently smacked my upper arm. "Jake! I can't believe you!"

See, even we good ones get blamed. Women. Yeesh.

"What? I didn't say anything! You're the one who asked how to make me "feel better" and I just chose not to give any suggestions."

She paused for a moment, "Yeah, but you were thinking about your 'suggestions'" She mumbled.

That's it.

I turned around quickly and pulled her into my arms, not caring if she felt my "little predicament"

"And you never think of that?" I accused.

"Well, I nev-"

I cut her off. "What, huh? Men are all pigs and only think of one thing, right?"

She opened her mouth to speak, I again interrupted.

"You know what, that's sexist, and I'd expect more than that out of you. I am VERY disapointed."

She smiled as she finally realised I was just kidding.

"Now who's talking like a parent?"

I suddenly felt very serious. Cassie caught onto my mood and her playful little smile vanished.

It was like someone had popped a hole in the hull, draining the mood out of the room.

"Cassie? A while ago, back on Earth, you told me that you did sometimes think of you and I . . . that way. Were you just saying that to make me feel better?"

Silently, she shook her head.

Oh, don't screw this up, man. You've hurt her enough.

I leaned in and gently kissed her.

This can't be wrong, it just can't.

She touched my face and I pulled away.

I wasn't nervous. I wasn't afraid.

I was just . . . warm. Warm everywhere. Inside and out. My arms, my chest, my . . . heart. Warm, through and through.

"Is this too soon, Cassie?"

She rolled onto her back taking me with her. Still kissing.

I whispered a protest. "Cassie, I'm, like, a billion times your size, I'll crush you to death." I was only HALF-kidding.

"It's right, Jake."

I slowly nodded. She was right. IT was right.

That night, I forgot about Ax. The cold of space. The guilt. The dead. The fear of hell.

I lost myself in Cassie's arms.

And I gave her all I had.

End of Chapter 8

* * *

This draft of chapter 8 is FINAL! No exchanges, refunds or substitutions! (or porn... of course if you really want the ORIGINAL non approved chapter 8- I deleted it but I could retype it from memory someday after this thing is finished)

REVIEWER'S CORNER:

J-Rae: Don't worry, it'll be ooookkkaaaay.

Raspberry: I actually DID take your advice and started a more "angsty" fic. (hear no evil)  
there's just a LOT of exposition and set-up to do before I can get to the "angsty" parts.  
After all, I DO have to devise a whole new universe.

Gorrable: Hmm. Yeah, you're right. I just didn't like that "super-happy" alternate, so I made  
an excuse for not having to post it.

Raspberry(again): I think after I finish these two series (A LONG time from now) I'll do a, like,  
book #5- based fic which breaks up R/T and paves the way for some marco/rachel. And make all my  
dreams come true!

Angel of Hearts: Yay! New reviewer! Come to the fluff side, my young apprentice!

mickEmousina: Sorry, I never got around to e-mailing you. I was just so frustrated with this fic,  
I threw up my hands and swore of all things waiver. Including the reveiwers.  
I catch you on the next review, though, k?

Momo Claus: Man! I didn't even think of Hanson! Well, you know what? They suck, so they don't  
count. ha-ha I'm STILL right!

Early: Shut up, don't review your own fics. Someone back me on this!

Dysphoria: Yeah, they DID. So, I trashed the whole damn chapter. They'll get together later.  
Six months, remember? Plenty of time. lol. BTW: You forgot Bob Marley! Ha!

Chava: Whoa. I could start a whole new fic responding to THAT thing! I'm not even gonna try,  
just read these next few chappie's and see for yourself if I paid attention to what you said. :)

Tristaine: Thanx. (hey, you write a short review, you get a short response.)

I usually don't believe in re-submitting a chapter. I think once something is put out there, it's now a challenge for the author to fix the mistakes in further chapters.

Hell, KA made lots of mistakes cough Oatmeal cough and she couldn't just snatch the books out of people's fingers and replace them! "Gimme that! Sorry kiddies, that book's an embarassment, so it just doesn't exist now. Bye!"

However, this is the internet, I'm not KA, and my chapter eight sucked, so screw my scruples.

Random Reviewer: "Scruples? The person who referred to Jake's you-know-what as a "cliff-HANGER" has SCRUPLES! Go figure."

Hey!

Random Reviewer: "Maybe if you wrote your chapters as long as your GOD AWFUL NOTES, I wouldn't be so crabby. Early? Shut up."


	9. The Calm

* * *

The Waiver 9

* * *

I had never felt so weak in my life.

No, not weak. Vulnerable?

I felt her heavy weight on my bare chest.

I bent my head down and gently brushed my lips against her scalp.

Would it always be this . . . incredible?

As I felt Cassie breathe, deep in the clutches of peaceful dreams, I prayed it so.

Her arms stretched above her head as she pulled away from me.

"Ugh. What time's it?" Cassie asked, yawning.

I tried not to notice that her stretching had slid the blanket down a little lower.

"Five thirty-seven, Bravo shift." I said, peering at my watch on the nightstand.

"Mmm. Too early. Sleep now." She placed her head in the crook of my shoulder and I hugged her close.

"So. Am I supposed to go running to my room before the others wake up?"

Cassie groaned and rolled away. "Ugh, Marco's gonna have a field day with this."

She placed her feet on the ground and pulled the blanket up, modestly.

I grinned. "Hmm. NOW she gets shy."

She turned her head to give me a dirty look.

Sucking in a deep breath and pulling up every ounce of courage I posessed, I rolled off the bed and walked over to my boxers. I grabbed them and pulled them on while Cassie watched me, amused.

"And you expect me to do that?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

"Go to your room, Jake."

* * *

When I stepped into the brightly lit room labeled "Mess", everyone of the Bravo shift was already there. This week, Bravo shift was Marco, Santorelli and Tobias.

Tobias looked up at me confused. "Wait a minute, I thought you were pulling Alpha this week. You telling me I could have slept in early?"

I had always felt a little nervous sharing a shift with Tobias, so we were convienently never awake at the same time.

I sat down. "Nah, I just couldn't sleep. Got hungry, you know?"

Marco peered at me suspiciously. "Yeah, sure." He tossed me one of the four bagels piled on a napkin in front of him. I caught it in mid-air and took a bite.

Just as I sat down, Cassie entered and slid into the chair across from me.

I winked at her and she smiled.

Marco looked peered at Cassie. "Okay, so now BOTH of you couldn't sleep. Mm-hm. Wonder why."

"That's none of your buisiness." I snapped a little too quickly. Cassie gave me a wide-eyed 'watch-what-you-say-buster' look.

Marco gave me another suspicious look, then went back to his breakfast.

Cassie casually reached across the table and started in on one of Marco's bagels.

Marco huddled his last two bagels to his chest, protectively. "Hey, you guys know how long it takes to defrost these things? Get your own!" He scoffed. "Free-loaders . . ."

He jabbed his thumb behind his shoulder towards the freezer behind him. "There's a whole sack of 'em right in there. Be my guest."

I watched Tobias hide a smile with his hand as Cassie took a bite of her stolen bagel.

"Jake, you're gonna let her get away with this? And after Igave you one, buddy you should be ashamed of yourself."

I sighed. "Well, you know it's not like I can choose my friend over my fiannce', Marco."

He slammed a bagel on the table, dramatically. "Well, why the hell not? You've known me longer- and did you just say fiannce'?" He pointed a finger at me.

I flashed him a big grin. Leaning over the table, I took one of Cassie's hands. "Cassie and I are getting married, Guys."

He looked shocked for about three seconds, before he composed himself. "Yeah, if we ever make it back to Earth, right?" he scoffed.

Santorelli chose now to enter the Mess and find himself some artificial coffee substitute.

Not to be disuaded, I fought back. "Actually, I was thinking of doing this on-board."

Marco sat down, hard. "But Jake, how am I supposed to throw a bachelor party on the Rachel?"

Santorelli took sip, winced, then looked up. "A bachelor party? I'm in! Who's getting married?"

Cassie put up her hand. "There isnot going to be any bachelor party."

I blinked. Well, we never discussed that.

"Whoah, now. Let's not be hasty here. Of course there'll be a bachelor party! It's tradition-" Marco argued.

"Besides," Cassie continued. "Just because I want a small wedding doesn't mean I don't want my parents to be there."

"Well, it won't matter much if we never go home!"

She gave Marco a dangerous look. "Weare going home . . ."

"Guys, guys!" Tobias put up his hands, placatingly. "How about we have two weddings, huh? A small one up here, just us guys. Then something a little more public on Earth. That sounds fair, right?" Tobias practically begged.

"I suppose," Marco allowed.

"Yeah, that sounds do-able" Cassie nodded.

"Sorry about that," Marco amended. "I was grumpy about my bagel . . . you pastry-thief."

"You know, technically, a bagel is NOT pastry."

"Yeah, well 'technically' you're a tree-huggin', berkenstock-wearing', bagel-stealing, little lettuce eater-"

"Do you two need to be separated?" I said.

"No, _Dad_." Marco sing-songed.

I took a deep breath and smiled patiently. "I think Tobias has a very good idea. Now, I suggest we all just sit down for a moment and-"

I was interrupted by a ship-wide message. "Captain, we are now entering Sector 471-8R. All crew, please report to the bridge. Repeat . . ."

I clapped my hands together. "Well, looks like this is gonna have to wait. Marco- no, wait, Tobias. Go wake up Jeanne. Meet the rest of us on the bridge."

Marco snapped his fingers. "Damn, I was that close."

I grinned. "Yeah, I almost slipped up there."

End ofPart 5

* * *

A/N: Sorry that chappie was so short, but I wanted what comes up next to have it's own chapter.

No, it's not The One. According to my time-line, only three weeks have passed in this fic. The One show up in six months. In #54, KA says: " . . . wandering around the system, seeing some cool things on strange worlds . . ." that line in the book, was the whole reason I wrote the waiver. I really wanted too show you what happened on those worlds and then show you what  
happened to the one. The last nine chapters have been build-up for that (I wanted Cassie on-board)

So, now that all the set-up is prepared, it's time to kick it up a notch.

(mutters) now I have to come up with cool things on strange worlds . . .

Reviewer's Response:

Dysphoria: Awwwwwww! Thanx! I'll write a one chapter NC-17 fic later to make up for it LOL!

Rachel: Is sticky from all the sap.

Raspberry: Hey, I want you to be VERY honest about this chappie when you review, because I may  
have pulled a K.A. and rushed it. I dunno, because it's 3:31 in the morning and I'm blitzed,  
so . . .

Cheetor: Okay, I'll rely on Beta's instead of posting drafts.

Amber: It's VERY hard to get new reviewers, because it's a challenge to get the newbies to stick  
through all those chappies. Thank you very much for taking he extra time. and here's your next  
chappie...

A/N:

(Insanity Equals Happiness)  
Plug Rachel's book: Well written, starts off slow (doesn't every fic?) A little pedantic, but  
that's okay, 'cause it's author is only 13. Picks up in the middle. I give it a thumb and a half  
up.

Ps. Cassie is NOT ooc, you'll see why when you get to chap 6. Can't get better unless you  
review.


	10. The First

* * *

The Waiver 10

* * *

Entering the bridge, I was startled by the system displayed on the viewscreen. Actually it wasn't the entire system, just one particular planet that stood out among the rest.

Marco spoke up, "Um, Menderash? Why does that planet glow in the dark?"

Menderash ignored him and contuinued his scans of the region.

The planet, marked on the screen as Sector 471, RG8-3, emited a brilliant purple color. I noticed that the system designation was shorter than others I had seen before, yet the Sector designation was longer. Was this because no Andalite had traveled into Kelbrid space?

"It's so beautiful." Cassie whispered. Jeanne nodded her agreement, utterly awed.

Marco waived his arm grandly at the screen. "I name hereby dub this land in name of Earth: Planet Glow Stick."

I leaned over a hassled Menderash's shoulder, resting my hand on the side of his console.  
"What's up, Menderash?"

He sighed and spun his chair around to face me. His eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue and face slightly pale. Actually, by now we were all pretty pale. What with no sun and all.

But Menderash has been sleeping less and less lately. I find him on the bridge constantly off-shift, muttering to himself and charting out the new systems we pass. We had set course to this sector, knowing that it was the nearest which could support life. So far, we had only found dead systems. Something I could tell frustrated him to no end.

"I seem to be having trouble locking on the direction of trail." Noticing our blank looks, Menderash continued. "To elaborate, when a ship is about to enter Z-space, they bleed off any excess Ion particles behind the rear thrusters. When the rear thrust is activated, the bled Ion gas cloud ignites, giving the almost immediate acceleration needed to 'cut' into zero space. The  
only flaw to this method, however, is that the Ion explosion leaves a trail behind which, in space, could remain there for decades without dissipating."

Everyone stared at Menderash, but it seemed to click for Tobias. "Um, what you're saying is . . . we're looking for tire marks on the asphault?"

"What?" Now, it was Menderash's turn to be off-step.

"Nevermind. Just know that we get it. So, why can't we lock on the trail?" I asked.

He grit his teeth. Amazing how quickly he was picking up on human gestures. "It's planet three. I assume that the intense radiation is confusing our scanners. I'll be able to lock on the signature but not the trail." Before I could ask, he raised his hand to stop me and explained. "I will be able to tell you the engines used in whatever ship passed through here, and from that,  
be able to list what model ships carry such engines. I will not be able to track the direction the ship was going or determine precisely how long ago they entered this sector."

I threw my hands up and slapped them down on my thighs. "So, all this information is pretty much useless?"

He hesitated. "Not exactly, Sir."

I raised an eyebrow. "What can be done?"

"Simply? If I lower our shields, I can increase the intensity of our scans and perhaps even root through the false scans to find the real trail. I am currently picking up on false reports of non-radioactive energy on planet three. Signs of technology, civilization." he scoffed. "Obviously impossible on THAT thing."

"Will lowering our shields make us vulnerable to the radioation."

"No, Captain. Our hull should provide adequate protection. We WILL be susceptable to attacks."

I didn't hesitate. "Go for it."

Menderash swiveled back to his console and began ringing off commands in thought-speach while pressing keys clumsily with his human fingers. "Lower shield resolution to 4.61. Prepare scan managers six through eight on the aft. Prime port thrust and rotate to-" his concentration was broken by a loud and insistant beeping coming from a speaker at his elbow.

Menderash peered at the speaker, mystified. "I- Captain, this is the off-ship communications line."

Jeanne questioned him, uncertainly. "Does that mean someone is 'hailing' us?"

Marco fluttered his eyelashes at her. "I ever tell you how smart I think you are?"

Jeanne just rolled her eyes and smiled. It had taken a while, but I could tell she was now used to Marco's harmless and pointless comments.

Menderash shook his head, emphatically. Again, the human gestures. "Impossible, besides they would use the standard inquiries and procedures. They wouldn't just 'beep' at us. It must be a random glich, Sir. I'll just cut the reciever and-"

"Wait!" Marco grabbed his shoulder quickly.

"What's wrong, Marco." I asked, concerned.

Marco muttered something to himself which I only caught part of. "-the universal language . . ."

Now, I was becoming a little agitated. "Marco, spit it out, already."

He shook his head. "Jake, don't you get it? Listen. It's not just random beeping. They're counting!"

I listened carefully and counted the beeps. Two, four, eight . . . No it wasn't counting. It was in multiples. I waited until the signal started again, looping at thirty-two beeps in a row.

"Jake, man, remember when my Dad was into that whole Z-Space mess?" I nodded. "Yeah, well he said that if humans had to communicate to another species and didn't know the language, they would have to use a universal language. Like music . . . or math."

I thought quickly. "Menderash, when it starts over again, tape it."

"Excuse me?"

I sighed. "Record the signal from the beginning." He waited as the signal wafted through the speaker. When it was complete, he muttered something to the computer and turned to me. "Signal recorded."

"Okay, rewi- uh, cycle it to the start and play it back to the point of origin."

Just as I started to feel the tension in the room rising, Menderash jumped out of his chair.

"Contact!" he yelled, excitedly.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I clutched my chest, gasping. "Don't DO that!"

"Sorry. But, Sir, we've established contact! In Kelbrid Space! They've sent some sort of text message in a data stream!"

"Can you translate it, or do you need more imput?"

He shook his head and sat back down. "A few more lines should provide a higher word accuracy, though details may be skewed slightly."

"Alright, um, send them this: 'We are the Starship Enterprise, of the United Federation of Planets-"

Marco snickered.

"-we are on a peaceful, scientific mission of discovery and wish only to inquire about the manner of habitat on their planet.' that should be enough to get something out of them."

The response came faster than I thought and Menderash quickly translated to us:

We are the Blue. The Blue wish to learn of you. The Blue wish to be your friends.

and then, a hurried second message:

The Blue are troubled. The Blue need help from our friends. Please tell the Blue more of your Federation and your Dark Sea Ship.

"Our what?" Santorelli asked.

"Dark sea ship? I guess they meant the Rachel." Tobias shrugged. "'dark sea' must be what they call space."

Menderash looked at me, expectedly. "What should I tell them, Sir?"I glanced quickly around the room to check the group's reaction. "Well, I guess we vote. Should we talk to these guys or not get involved? Jeanne?" I asked, making sure to start with the newer people.

Jeanne looked flattered to have her opinion asked. "I think perhaps we should stick to our priorities. While it would be nice to help everyone in the universe, we should be lookingfor the good prince, no?"

I nodded and then looked pointedly at Cassie, the next person on Jeanne's left.

She hesitated. "We should leave- no... help. Yeah, if they really need it, we should help." she nodded, mostly to herself.

I gestured to Santorelli. "I'm gonna have to go with Gerard on this one, Prof. Our primary mission is the recovery of Prince Aximili."

Marco gestured toward Jeanne. "Well, as much as I'd like to agree with this fine, young specimen of female-ness. I have to disagree."

This took me aback. While Marco _is_ brave, he is also the most likely to vote for us to save our necks.

"Why do YOU want to stay? What's the catch?" Cassie asked what I was thinking.

He smirked. "If these people's first reaction to aliens was to contact us, then any other ship that stopped here might have had time to speak to the locals too."

I nodded. "And friends of "The Blue" might be able to ask about these conversations." I asked, more of a statement.

I looked at Tobias and he just shrugged at me.

"Menderash?" he straightened his shoulders.

"Whatever my Prince decides, I must obey implicitly."

I sighed.

Just like Ax. A depressing thought.

"All right, hail them."

End Chapter 10

* * *

Reviewer's Response:

Raspberry: Yeah, I think I rushed it a bit. I was just SO eager to get the plot moving again,  
but needed a link from one plot to the next. Hence: Chapter 9. I wish I could show you WHY  
Cassie was so messed up in 9, but unfortunately this is a Jake POV book, so you won't find out  
until Jake does. Sorry.

Rachel: Aw:P to you too! lol


	11. The Fall

* * *

The Waiver 11

* * *

"What should I transmit, Sir?"

I looked at the floor for a moment to clear my thoughts.

"Say . . . we will exchange information. Ask if we are the first ship to pass this area. In exchange, tell them that the Federation searches the galaxy to . . . um . . ."

Realizing I was out of my league, I motioned for Marco to step up to the plate.

"You were almost there, big guy. Here we go. We search the galaxy for civilized peoples to add to our alliance of peace. The stronger nations of the federation aid the weaker. Transmit that."

"Transmitting . . . Sir? The signal seems to be breaking up. It is becoming . . . mixed with another tranmission. It would seem that something is trying to interfere."

"The third planet's radiation?"

Menderash almost laughed. "Oh, you're serious? I thought that was a human joke. Captain, it takes intelligent life to this THIS sort of jamming."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, can you hold it?"

Menderash looked insulted. "Of course, Sir." He looked to his panel.

"We're getting a response-"

WAH-BOOM!

The bridge shook and lights dimmed. Sparks began flying from a nearby panel and the viewscreen dimmed.

A piece of the control panel shot through the air, and I dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding decapitation.

A diplay unit overhead cracked, tipped and dropped . . . On Jeanne.

When the rumbling stopped and the deck became horizontal again, I leapt to my feet. "What the f- What was that!"

Marco coughed and slowly stood up, holding his lower back. "Their response."

Menderash crawled into the pilot's seat. I noticed a nasty-looking gash on his arm.

"Sir, something was fired at us from planet four. It seems to be . . . a missile, Sir. Gas propelled."

I was stunned. A gas-propelled missile? I felt like Goliath must have when he was smacked with a rock. If our shields weren't down that missile would have done a thousandth of the damage visible on the bridge. I cringed thinking of how some other, more vunerable, parts of the ship must've looked.

Marco jumped up and burst into a rant. "What the hell's the matter with these people! We offered to enrich their lives with fast food, Richard Simmons and frisbee. What do we get in return? They try to blow us up! Now if I was in charge of this bottle rocket we call a ship-"

I tuned out his voice and concentrated on the matter at hand.

"Raise the shields and cut the communications line." I gritted. They wanted to play and I was ready for them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cassie kneeling by Jeanne's head.

She looked at Santorelli. "Give me your shirt, quick! I have to stop the bleeding." Santorelli quickly complied, then stood there helpless as Cassie started tearing it into strips.

I waited for as long as I could bear, then addressed Cassie, impatiently.

"Well? How's she doing?"

Cassie looked up and shook her head, unable to answer. Marco spoke for her. "Don't worry, big Jake. She's just unconscious. All we have to do is wait for her to wake up and tell her to morph." He was trying to reassure me and everyone on the ship knew why.

For some reason, them knowing made me enraged. Not at them, but these 'Blue'.

"They think they're top dog with a _missile?_ Menderash, let's show themreal firepower. Track the trajectory of that last missile and tell me the point of origin."

This finally caught Cassie's attention. "Jake, what are you doing? You can't just fire randomly, there might be citizens down there."

I shook my head. "I'm aiming for wherever that missile came from. We'll only get the people responsi-"

"Not possible, Captain."

I blinked and turned to Menderash. I tried to control my voice as much as possible, as I always do when I'm ready to hurt something. The result is this low, soothing sound.

"Excuse me? Why. The hell. Not?"

"It seems that our weapon's tracking system is down, Sir."

I raised an eyebrow. "And you're telling me now?"

He shrugged. "You didn't ask for a damage report."

If Andalite ships actually run like this, it's a wonder they stayed alive long enough to make it to Earth.

I guess I must have muttered that aloud, because the humans on deck were all giving me amused looks and Menderash looked as if he wished he still had a nice, sharp tail blade to impale me on. I decided to just use the Andalite way out. "No offense meant to the Fleet, of course."

"Of course." Menderash growled out his response.

I stared at the dead viewscreen. "So what CAN we do?"

"Now?" Menderash hesitated. " . . . hope to slow our decent."

Okay, fine he wins.

"Damage report!" I snapped.

Menderash quickly complied, speaking a little faster than usual.

"We have lost weapons tracking, water recyclation, aft Stablizers and all engine functions. Thus, we are unable to maintain orbit and are rapidly approaching the surface of planet four."

"Oh great, another 'thus-er'." Marco mumbled, then dabbed his fingers on his tongue and started rubbing at a little blood spot on his arm.

I nodded. "Thank you. Now can you suggest something to do about it?"

Menderash blinked. "Well, reverse thrusters, obviously."

I gave him a calm and polite smile, okay, so it was more like I bared my teeth menacingly, "Would you do that, please?"

For some reason, my smiling jolted Menderash more than my yelling, because he spun around in his chair and began punching buttons at a furious pace.

"I- it won't hold. We will be experiencing a hard impact landing."

Marco eyeballed Menderash. "We're going to crash on a planet full of schizophrenics? Oh, great."

"Menderash? For now on, whenever you think that I, being the simple human I am, might not know all the ships capabilities and crew commands, make a suggestion, okay?"

"In that case, Sir, may I suggest materializing the cloak?"

"Yes, please. Do that. Now."

I shook my head. Why did they fire on us? It made no sense. And now we had no choice but to try and hold on until-

"Wait, maybe that's it."

Marco looked up with hope. "You know how to keep us from falling?"

"No, we're still screwed." Marco's face fell. "But I think I figured out why they fired at us. They knew we were too close to the planet. A well-aimed rocket and we're ground-bound."

Marco scoffed. "Don't try to be the smart one, Jake, you'll just hurt yourself. Leave it to a trained professional." He shrugged when I gave him a dirty look. "Think about it, why all the 'Let's be buddies' talk? There's no reason for it. My guess is whatever they 'need help' from probably doesn't want us involved and tried to blow us out of the water."

"Well, that_would_ explain the signal jam."

Meanwhile, the ship was still hurtling towards the planet as Marco and I calmly discussed the motives of the Blue.

Well, it's not like we could see it on the viewscreen. And the gravitational compensators made it feel like we were standing still. Menderash and Santorelli were the only ones who looked nervous.

Menderash, because he was watching our altitude drop on the monitors. And Santorelli, because he had never been in a spaceship crash before. This was cake. I was just happy there were no Sario Rips around.

"By angling the ship, I think I will be able to make a flatter surface against the atmosphere and help the thrusters slow our decent. Just another suggestion, Sir." He said, using his human eyes to make an Andalite smirk.

"Well, let's just hope it works."

* * *

End of Chapter 11

Reviewer's Response:

Phillip (Triple Point) Walker: So . . . what's your THIRD point? (wiggles eyebrows  
suggestively)... cough ANYWAYS, I think you might see some of your influence in this  
next chapter. Thanx for the idea. See? This is why I need a beta, Phil.

ChocalteKitty(no, that is NOT a typo, this is how her name is spelled): mmmmm . . . reviewer-y.

ChocalteKitty(again): How about 'stupendous', 'magnificent' or my personal favorite: Ficaliscious?  
Thanks for reviewing, new person!

RaspberryGirl: Hey, how's it going! All right, you'll SEE, I'm telling you! (Oh boy, with this  
much build-up my next chappie better be . . . ficaliscious. Thanks for the compliment, Rasp.

Dysphoria: Hmmph, like I'm going to promote KA's books any more by RE-TELLING them, lol. Thanks.

Rachel9466: OUR Marco! Uh-UH. MY Marco. He my man! (actually, I'm gay, so he's all yours . . .  
but I still get to walk him and take him to the park)


	12. The Storm

A/N: It's 4am and I am baked. I banged out this chapter before my buzz broke (taking Rasp's  
advice.) So excuse me if my reviewer's response sounds beligerent or this chapter makes  
no sense.

* * *

The Waiver 12

* * *

"The problem is, if I angle too steeply, we become like a human arrow. We will pierce through the atmosphere and dart into the surface completely obliterating the ship . . . well, what's left of the ship. If I angle it too shallow, we will impact on the atmosphere without penetrating. Again, the ship will be destroyed."

There was complete silence.

"Menderash? You know when I said to tell me things if you think I don't know them? Well, some things I just should NOT know, okay?"

Menderash risked a look away from his console, looked at me confusedly, muttered something about 'pitful humans and their bi-visual handicap', then turned back to his work.

From the floor, Jeanne moaned and slowly sat up, clutching her head with both hands. Cassie and Tobias each grabbed an arm and gently helped her to her feet.

"Oh, vhat happened?"

Marco's eyes brightened, seeing his usual victim was well enough to continue his annoyance.

Jeanne took one look at Marco's face and moaned again. "I think I'm going to lie back down, yes?"

She started to slump back to the floor, but Marco darted to her side and carefully pulled her back up. "Oh no you don't. We're about to crash land. You'd better get into one of the chairs and strap yourself in. Here, let me help you-"

She quickly wretched her arm away. "I think I can sit without your hands-"

I tuned them both out. I'm sure this morning's (slash-day-slash-night-slash-whatever's) rant was amusing, but I had learned that those two would never just agree.

Strange, Jeanne claimed she couldn't stand Marco, but she always kept the argument going. As if she didn't know that all she had to do was say nothing back and Marco would be bored with her.

I focused back on Menderash and the confusing display of lines, numbers and Galard forteless marks. "Suggestion, Sir: You should sit in one of the chairs very soon."

"Soon? When do we hit the-"

I felt a moment of flight before I smashed into what I think was the wall . . . could have been the viewscreen, I didn't hear anything break, but those screens_are_ quite durable.

The scene around me blurred, then dimmed. I caught a flash of Cassie fighting to pull the emergency restraints off that had automatically strapped her in upon impact. She managed to get one arm free, trying to get out and help me.

I weakly waved a hand at her, wanting to tell her to stay in her chair.

"I'll be fine . . ." I croaked through a rough throat. I felt a warm liquid work it's way down my forehead and contour around my left eye. Such a familiar feeling, blood. Strange to feel it while in human form. I've mostly only had it while in mo-

I passed out.

* * *

CASSIE

Jake lay limp in the corner as he had a million times before. A dark part of me deep down was thinking, "When can we rest? When will I get to stop seeing him hurt?"

He had gestured for me to stay and muttered something, but there was no way I was just going to sit there and watch the acceleration of the ship push him against the wall.

I felt something come loose in my Emergency strap and it yanked free, propelling me onto the floor. Hitting the ground with a loud CRACK sound and a sharp pain in each kneecap, I started to crawl my way over to him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw everyone but Menderash and Tobias trying to do the same. I had slipped out of it easily, because of how short I was.

Thing was, I wasn't fighting to get towards him, I was fighting to stop from falling ON him. The enertia or whatever of the ship was pulling right down to him, apparently, we were flying/falling backwards. Carefully, I clung to fixtures and consoles half-sliding, half-dangling from each.

Finally, I held onto the mantel of the viewscreen and leaned over his prone body. It wasn't too serious a hit. Probably a concussion though . . . and that blood looked a little too dark for comfort. A deep cut? Most likely.

I decided to think a little more about that later and concentrate on Jake. While I was staring at him dumbly thinking "Okay, I got here, now what?" Santorelli slinked in next to me, near Jake's feet.

"If nothing's broken, I'll help you heft him up into a seat."

I gave him a quick fracture check. "No, he's clean . . . I think." No matter how sure I_thought_ I was, there was always a possibility that I had missed something in my haste to get him to safety. Before Menderash did who knows what else with the gravity.

Looping one arm around Jake's waist, Santorelli slowly pulled himself towards the captain's seat with his other. Marco made it over to the chair and helped pull when Santorelli passed him up. Working hard against the skewered gravity, they managed to get him in the chair, when Tobias finally was unstrapped and morphed enough to help.

With a hand from Tobias, I made it back to my seat. I couldn't stop myself from staring at his limp body, limbs loose and slumping in his chair.

* * *

JAKE

Very slowly the world crept back as my vision returned. I found myself half-hanging out of my chair with a pounding headache. Justifiably, considering I was just smacked silly by a ship. I know what your expecting: The typical Star Trek scene with sparks flying out of various consoles with smoking billowing into the corridor.

But it was suprisingly quiet and calm on the bridge. I did notice some electrical burns on the main console and a few scorch marks around it. Realising I was completly alone, I gingerly removed my restraints and relied on my wobbly legs to hold me up. I managed to stand and tip-toe over to the conjuction junction. The hatch light was flashing, showing that the outer hatch was un-sealed.

"Oh my- we landed?" I whispered to myself. I slowly openned the inner hatch and let out the breath I was holding unconsciously.

Peering around outside, I was in the air for about five seconds before- "Oooopf!" I stumbled backward under the weight of an armful of Cassie. I held her tight for a moment and then let go. Marco was staring.

Everone was there. Menerash had some bad burns on the left side of his face, which explained the scorch marks on the pilot's console. Jeanne had morphed and demorphed to relieve the swelling in her head.

I got all the info from Marco. We had made the "hard impact landing" and Menderash performed a systems check and an enviroment scan of the surrounding countryside. The air was breathable.

The first thing I noticed about our pit stop, was the local vegitation. The grass was a reddish- gold and springy, almost. The rolling hills spanned for miled around us. No tree or sign of civilization in sight. The only thing that drew any concern, were these large holes in the ground.

Like molehills, they were obviously planned. In a grid-like formation, a hole was placed about every fifty yards. I couldn't tell how deep they ran though, because there were none close enough for me to check out without possibly putting myself at risk.

I knew before I even asked what the answer would be:

"So Menderash? Any chance we can fix our little toy ship without spare parts?"

"No, sir. We'll need supplies."

I nodded. Of course. How else would we be forced to be at the mercy of people we knew nothing about and now had to confront. I just hoped we hadn't landed in the front yard of whoever fired at us.

Grabbing some equipment from Rachel, namly Shredders, Interpretters and emergency survival gear, we nervously crept towards a molehill. Turns out, about half-way down the hole, a metal tubing began and continued by about three feet before reaching a metal platform with gears and pullys protuding from every non-floor surface.

I turned from the lip of the hole, will I was leaning over while lying on my belly, I glanced up at the others, squinting against the golden sun. I remebered that star from space. It didn't look so bright with the viewscreen's auto-dimmer on.

"Well, what do you guys think? Underground colony?"

Marco shook his head. "Colony? Most likely. But it could also be a big mine, of a sewer vent, hell, we could be standing on a giant buried dump and that's a vent for the fumes."

I paused and considered. "Menderash, can we attach a cord to that scanner and lower it down or something?"

"Yes, Sir, but that is not nesassary. I will simply launch the probe." Without warning, Menderash leaned over my shoulder. Aiming his scanner down the hole, he pressed a button on the device, shooting a small ball covered in microchips and black panelling. The ball hovered for a moment, then shot through a hole between the platform and it's tubed metal walls. In less than  
three seconds, the ball blasted back through and shot directly back into the hole of the scanner, like the cord-return on a vacume.

Menderash worried at the scanner for a moment or two, punching the small buttons. "Clumsy human digits . . . Ah, here we are." he frowned, "It seems the air down there is just as human- habitable as up here. In fact, the content is even cleaner then this. Whatever is down there, the ventalation system is incredible."

I nodded. "So it's most likely people down there."

Marco shugged. "That or we just ran into a Taxxon colony."

That sent shivers down my spine. I remembered the Taxxon colony of earth FAR too well. Plucking six straws of grass, I carefully fisted them and held them in front of everyone.

"Um . . . Jake? That's six, there's seven of us here." Tobias pointed.

I smiled, sheepishly and added another to the bunch. "Sorry, force of habit. Good eyes."

"Okay, volunteers. Whoever gets the long straw goes down the tube."

End Chapter 12

* * *

Reviewer's Response:

Rawk: Ummm . . . right. And Marco can be with whoever the hell I want. Shuddup or I'll  
write a Jeanne/Marco NC-17! lol Talk to you later.

Alikat: Thanks for taking the time to read through all the chapters and join our little  
collective here. Be sure to keep telling me your ideas and opinions, even if they're harsh. I  
always listen to my reviewer's imput (I just don't always agree. hehehe)

RaspberryGirl: Well, the way I figure they've been friends since they were fetus's, so they MUST  
have found a sort of rythm in their conversation. So I'm glad you liked that part. I'm going to  
try to move this along, but I don't want to loose content, as a result of hurrying the plot line  
along with less detail.

Cheetor654: (Hands Cheetor a copy of "The Waiver" and a spoonfull of smack) Glad to have you  
back. Careful, it's addicting.

Okay, the next one, I'll just put all of his responses into one group.

Prometheus:  
1. Yeah, I try to open my chapters right in the middle of the chapter. I get right to the  
immediate rising action, without a lot of introduction. I'm glad it works.  
2. Ugh. About the typos: blame my beta reader (I have none)  
3. chokes Killing me won't stop the pain! Arg! Go eat something and leave me alone.  
4. Yes, the chapters are getting shorter. This is because whenever I start a new fic,  
I work and re-work the first chapter so it is perfect and draws attention. This makes the fic  
chapter huge. Afterwords, I get more and more casual about my writing and worry more about  
character development than gaining new readers. Thus, (yes, thus) shorter chapters.  
5. Thanks. But the accent is getting aggrivating, so I'm slowly going to faze it out.  
6. Bwa-ahahaha! I changed the f'n POV anyways! Whatcha gonna do 'bout it? Tee-hee

ChocalateKitty: Done changing your nickname yet? Yeesh. About beta: e-mail me if you're still  
interested and I'll send you the next chapter of "Hear No Evil" to give your opinions while I'M  
writing the next chapter of the waiver.

Rachel9466: Okay, but only because you told me too.

Wow, I think that's the longest response I've ever written.

EARLY


	13. The UnCertainty

* * *

The Waiver

* * *

We each drew a straw. I opened my palm and held up my long straw between two fingers, when-

TSSSSSS

With a wisp of smoke, the grass burned through the middle, the top half falling to the ground below.

I stared at the remaining straw stupidly.

"Well, looks like yours is the short straw now, J-Ow!" With a cry of suprise, Marco clasped his hand to his scalp. When he pulled it away, there was residual blood clinging to his palm.

I stormed purposefuly to Marco and moved his short, dark hair until I saw the dot of blood. Below me, Marco's nervous voice rose up. "Well? What is it, man?" He asked shakily.

I shook my head. "I dunno. It kinda looks like something bit you."

Suprisingly, he sighed with relief. "Oh thank merciful heavens! I thought it was a bunch of freakin' Helmacons!" Despite the confusing situation, I couldn't help laughing.

"Yeah, Helmacons." I chuckled. "Anything but th-" I felt a hot sting on my arm. "-at."

Slowly, I raised my forearm to my face and inspected the small bloodspot that had appeared there. It was foaming slightly around the edges and I winced in pain as the foam dissipated and fizzled out.

"What the heck was that?" I noticed Tobias staring at something in the distance. Somewhere off in the direction of the ship, which was about fifty yards away, now.

Following his line of sight, I saw what looked like a haze of gray at first. Then I recognized the sound and groaned.

Oh great. Rain.

I hate rain.

"Ow, hey!" Santorelli shouted. Cassie cried out and grabbed her shoulder. I clasped a hand to my head when I felt another bite on the top of my earlobe. We must have stirred up a whole nest of something. Whatever the hell it was, my team was getting chewed up. "Okay, I've had enough of this. Back to the ship for now."

I turned and started to march back when Tobias gripped my arm and pulled me to a stop.

"Jake are you nuts? You're going from the frying pan into the fire!"

It took me a second to process. Finally the thought dawned on me.

There were no bugs. It was the rain. Only a few spatterings had reached us, but I knew it was only seconds before we were encompassed in some sort of ultra-polluted acid rain.

I now had a new reason to hate rainy days.

Without an explanation to the others, I ordered everyone into the nearest hole.

"What? Go in _there_?" Marco yelped.

"Just GO! Now! Move, move, move!"

Sounds of our scrambling echoed throughout the metal-walled tube. "Man! We finally get out of that sardine can for the first time in three weeks, where does Jake take us? Nope, not the zoo. Our boy brings us to another SARDINE CAN!"

"Would you just shut up and get under the platform?"

"How!"

"Open your eyes! There's a large gap to your right, just slip through."

Marco carefully edged his way over the lip of the gap. I held my breath as his legs, waist, then head disappeared. His fingertips clung to the ledge for a moment, before he let go.

"Heh-umph!" There was a light thud sound as Marco landed.

Santorelli called down to him. "What do you see?"

"Well, it's pitch black over here, but I can see a-... oh, crap."

"Vhat? Vhat is it?" Jeanne asked, obviously worried.

"Um... there's a light at the end of the tunnel."

I sighed, exasperated. "Yes, yes. Very funny, Marco. I get it, light, tunnel. Great." I rubbed the bridge of my nose hoping to earn some relief from the headache I felt approaching.

"Yeah. It_would_ be funny, if I were kidding. Thing is, the light's getting closer, big guy."

It was the "big guy" that tipped me off. That nickname was like a jinx, nothing good ever came  
after it's utterance.

Echoing through the chamber was a mix of Marco's increasingly labored breathing and the constant  
hissing reminder of the acid rain.

Decision time.

"Alright, everyone under the platform. I'd rather put up with aliens than burning flesh, agreed?"

No one replied, only quickly shimmed through the gap one-by-one.

I went through last, scratching my shoulders on the edge of the hole. I had to twist one arm around to my chest, rolling the shoulder inward, to actually fit. I guess sometimes being bigger isn't better.

I didn't have to fall to reach the bottom. I simply stretched out my arms and my toes touched the ground. It never really occured to me just how large I really was. I'd must have grown in the past few years.

I shrugged at the thought and pointed down the corridor away from the light. Silently telling the others to start moving opposite of whomever was approaching at the other end.

If I was going to play good neighbor, I wanted to find out more about these guys first.

About five steps into our new direction, the metal paneling stopped. I felt along the wall to try and keep from running into anyone else, but I knew we wouldn't last for long like this. The tube was now made of what felt like very grainy rock. I marveled at the sort of tools needed to carve out this tunnel and then install tubes to the surface.

"Alright that's it. Everybody stop." I paused to think for a moment.

"Okay, Marco and Tobias, go bat. You guys will travel point and warn us of anything up ahead. Cassie, go owl and use the little bit of light from the other end to tell us if they are getting too close."

The darkness seemed to punctuate the sounds of grinding mallow and shifting flesh. Once the caphony of disgusting morph-music was over, I sucked up a deep breath and tried to peer through the pitch darkness.

(("Jake, I 'see' something already.")) Tobias reported.

"Yeah? What do you got?"

(("Up ahead, to your left. There's a depression in the wall, I think it's a door."))

(("And right above THAT is another tube")) Marco added.

I nodded, barely hearing them. Already my mind was flipping through the various morphs. My body shook with the energy of_no_ energy. You know that wierd feeling you get, when you're dumb enough to stay up til the wee hours of the morning? How when you finally decide to go to sleep, you just _can't_? That "no" energy was coursing through my body now, all too familiar.

What if we were caught? Would they refuse to give us aid if they knew we had spied on them? Or this could be a trap. I not only felt the helplessness of not having the upper hand... I didn't even know what the upper hand was.

For a moment, I regreted telling Cassie to morph. While her owl eyes were needed for the mission, I still needed her comfort. I relied on her to keep my mind from circling the same thoughts I watched them spiral towards now.

A desperate situation. Our ship was disabled. The planet's atomosphere was at best unstable. And we had no way to tell our enemies from our potential allies.

"All sorts of opportunities for me to get someone killed." I muttered. I slapped my hand over my mouth, but too late. I had forgotten that bats had amazing hearing.

* * *

CASSIE

"Well, what do you think? Is there any way in?"

I gently reached ahead of me until my hand connected with the cold metal of the door.

Menderash shook his head. "Without being able to see, I will need much more time to determine that. However, the main purpose of a 'door' is the allowance of traffic from one closed area to another area closed or otherwise. Therefore, I believe it is safe to assume that yes, there is a way in and out."

Jake grit his teeth.

Menderash smiled with his eyes. "I was attempting to make a human joke on the premise that you asked me if there was a way in, not if knew a specific mode of action that would allow us to enter at the present time-"

"Yes! I get it." Jake barked as he pressed his hands over his eyes. Kind of pointless, since he couldn't see anyways. I was precariously perched on Santorelli's shoulder, with his hand propping me up so I did not have to dig in with my claws.

If I could smile, I would. While I knew this was aggrivating Jake to no end, I could tell the banter was taking his mind off the last battle, as we had come to call it.

I watched as he rubbed his face with his hands and then placed them on his hips, lost in thought.

I stretched my talons. Well... now what? I immediately felt guily for thinking that. Poor Jake was trying to decide how to keep us all alive and the first thing that pops in my head is that?

I knew that something had been wrong with me lately. I had blamed it all on sharp nerves and cabin fever. But no, this was something else. I was snappish, unconsiderate.

What in the he- no. Stop that.

What was wrong with me?

End of Part 13

* * *

If you review, please don't yell at me for a short chapter. I have a job, people.  
Besides, if I make EVERY chapter perfect, what will I re-write when I'm a veteran author and out  
of ideas, hmmm? ((((((which I am doing right now BTW... it's been 3 years and now I'm editing these all and stalling before I write chapter 15 but I don't consider myself a veteran author yet. Although looking back at this story, I find that I was very stupid 3 years ago. It's like looking at a time capsule you made and finding a My Little Pony in there.)))

(((Like: "What the hell?"))))

EARLY


	14. The Blue

* * *

The Waiver 14

* * *

The Tunnel-Captain of Nest four-eight-zero-three-four, called Horsa-hitt by close friends, shook his back-arms in exasperation.

How to make contact with a species if they flee from the ambassadors? The aliens agreed to help us, he ranted silently, and now they run? How odd.

He made a quick call down to his ambassadors. Communicating to them via bracelet flashlights.

* * *

JAKE

I saw the lights bouncing off a wall before they actually appeared around the corner. Strangely enough, the lights changed from a flashing white to a blue that seemed to throb peacefully. Slowly, the blue lights would get brighter and brighter until I had to squint, then they would dim.

Menderash was still fiddling with the door, uselessly. Every few moments, a device would beep from his position, with no results.

He refused to look me in the eye as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Captain, but there seems to be no electrical or computer components involved with this door. I can find no way to open it."

I nodded and patted him on the shoulder. I'm not sure if Menderash understood that human gesture, so I made it clear. "I know you did your best, but is there ANYTHING-anything at all-you haven't tried yet?" I asked, trying to make up for

my recent crankiness.

The blue lights throbbed eerily on his face "Sir, there is nothing I have been trained to do, that I have not done."

I puzzled over this for a moment and watched the "door" fade in and out with the approaching blue light.

On a whim, I groaned and sarcastically rapped out the "three stooges" knock on the door. I heard others laughter cut short as the recess emitted a grating sound, akin to sandpaper on a chalkboard.

We all took a step back (well those of us with feet) until we bumped into each other on the far wall. The recess slid back further before being pulled or pushed to the right.

I cleared my throat. "Well. Uh. That's convenient."

Marco's laughter was on the edge of hysterical. ((All that crap and all we had to do was knock! Oh, that's priceless.))

With the blue lights inching closer I stared into the new room in front of us. "Marco, Tobias? Take a look in- Crap."

The room in front of us began to glow blue. What seemed like spotlights- no, like traffic lights all around the room. With so much light, the silhouettes behind became more pronounced.

I could now see four legs, flat-top heads and strange glowing circles on their misshaped torsos.

We were trapped.

* * *

TL 48034 was surprised as the aliens proceeded towards Tunnel HQ. He immediately ordered the Ambassadors to sing the Blue Anthem to dissuade any attack.

He sent OD's out to the pulleys and several guards filled HQ. Not to show aggression, but so that these newcomers could receive a proper welcome. TL 48034 was not the most decorated and splendored of the Tunnel-Leaders, but he would

give these saviors of the black sea a welcome to make the Tunnel-lord blush!

The TL flashed red orders in the blue song, interrupting some singers. One turned from his console to signal a yellow warning. "TL - aliens near opening!"

The TL absentmindedly gave a green recognition and red "Standby".

The song of blue throbbed throughout the HQ when - BLINDNESS!

A quick strange blindness, much like the signal they had been sent by the ship. So strange.

These aliens must communicate by cutting out a person's ability to grid?

How to respond?

The TL slowly sucked the air up through his pod pores. Time to take a chance.

"Guard Far From TL! Open opening/closing to HQ!"

* * *

JAKE

"Um, Hello?" I questioned the silent room. The blue lights stopped immediately and a few shapes moved, bumping into the metal boxes lined against the walls.

One yellow light began flashing insistently.

Something must have clicked in Marco's brain, because he yelled with surprise. ((Duh! Jake, the language of math! They weren't using a universal language! Math is their language!))

The yellow light stopped flashing. I could no longer see anything.

I sighed. "Marco? Try to speak with them. And be smart about it."

((Am I any other way?))

"Whatever, just don't piss anyone off."

I heard a bat flutter and cling to a notch in the wall. ((Um, hello? If you can understand me, turn on a light.))

Nothing. No one in the room moved. Tobias sighed. ((Well, that was pointless.))

A light from the center of the room began the blue throbbing. ((Or maybe not,)) he rectified.

"Sir, I can try and record this for translation." Menderash didn't wait for my response and pushed past me with a metal box. I vaguely saw a mesh grill on the front, before he slipped out of view.

"They don't seem to respond to normal speaking. Marco? You're supposed to be charming, try again."

((Hey, I'm doing my best here.)) The blue flicked and continued. ((We are attempting to translate your language, we need you to speak more. Tell us who you are?))

Menderash's box began speaking in Galard as the blue center light switched to yellow. I managed to pick up on a few words I had learned on board, but I admit that I had to rely Menderash for most of it.

"Speak yellow yellow no warning yellow no pain yellow good time with blue."

I raised an eyebrow. "What the hell does THAT mean?"

((I think they're trying to say "we come in peace" Isn't that what you sent to them?)) Tobias's theory seemed right to me. They were saying the same thing I said, but in thier language.

"The translation is at sixty-seven percent, Captain."

"Please less sound. When more sound, no sight," Menderash translated. Halfway through, he followed his own instructions and quieted down a bit. "Confusion. When less sound, less confusion," Menderash whispered.

"They must see through ecolation or something," I whispered.

"That would explain why they went apeshit when we first came in," Santorelli agreed.

"We are Blue. You come. We are happy. There is much to communicate."

All at once the room lit up with blue lights, each was following the same soothing blue pattern.

I nodded. The Blue. Makes sense now.

((Just what the heck is your malfunction! We tell you we want to help and you shoot us down?)) an enraged thoughtspeak voice interrupted.

No way. That one came from Cassie? ((We did absolutely nothing to provoke you!)) I whipped around, stopping Cassie short with a glare. "Can it," I hissed.

No expression in her owl eyes could tell me what, but something was wrong with her. With our ship damaged and some crazy-ass aliens wanting us dead . . . there was no time for Cassie. Just the thought of discussing this later drained away some of my precious energy.

The box spoke again and Menderash wiped the surprised look off his face to catch up with it. "That is why we summon you! The Blue wish to be friends. You help Blue, Blue help you. We now have same/common/together enemy." Menderash gave me an indignant look. "I've never had to translate light before," He whispered terribly, with a scowl at the word 'light'.

I felt rushed. Hurried. I wanted off this planet.

And I'd do anything to achieve that goal.

* * *

CASSIE

We were "silently" escorted to the back of the room, where another door grated open. I gasped at the sight before me.

A large dome, illuminated only by a blue light at it's apex. Buildings everywhere. I could see the forms more clearly now, swarming in and out (and on top) of the structures. All flashing in red, yellow, green and purple. The center light was the only one with blue. Stone huts forming a market or trading place blocked my view of the rest of the city, but what I COULD see. . . It reminded me of Pablo stone huts I had seen in my History-

Okay fine, I'll admit it.

It reminded me of a Yeerk pool, minus the pool.

It reminded me of the underwater Nartec world aka the taxidermists from hell.

It reminded me of-

As if reading my mind, Marco calmed me a bit, ((Just think of the Chee, guys. They live like this.))

"The vhat?"

((Oh, nothing.))

My mind wasn't about to let me off that easy. A theory formed in my mind that all our enemies CHOSE to live underground. The Chee were forced there, to hide. Taxxons, Yeerks, Nartec . . . and our allies were above ground.

I shook this out of my head. No need to judge the Blue yet.

Nothing more from me. The negative thoughts running through my brain . . . I wanted to hurt something, BAD.

Someone hit our ship. Someone made me see Jake hurt, unconscious. Bleeding. I thought it would all be over. I thought I would never have to worry about him dying.

I thought wrong.

Well I'd had enough of sitting around trying to make everything "pleasant". If anyone lays a finger, or tentacle or whatever, on him . . . they are my meat.

Something about that last thought rang familiar. Where had I heard that before? I had never been this bitter and angry, yet it seemed to fit well with the current situation.

Why did it seem . . . right to hear this?

End of Part 14

* * *

REVIEWER RESPONSE:

Dysphoria: Ah, nice try. But the hull of the ship is made out a special, lightweight metal that I think could withstand acid rain without help from shields. I was thinking about making it so the shields would still work, but then I said "screw it" The andalites make good metal, I'm sure.

Andre: No, Cassie is NOT pregnant. Just the thought of so obvious a storyline makes me shudder. Nope, you never gotta worry about that. You'll see what's wrong with her soon enough.

Alikat: Yes, I'm glad idiot-proofed the review option, too. Pity they didn't flame-proof it.

RenDevil: That's one of my favorite parts too. (and Cassie's favorite "part") I'm glad I made ya smile a bit.

Kay13: Thanks and YES, I will have to explain that eventually. I don't like to leave loose ends in my fics.

RaspberryGirl: Aw, poor you. But hey, it's for a good cause, right? ((Note: With Raspberry's help I was able to FINALLY knock out this chapter . . . so if it sucks, blame her. ROTFL))

Rachel9466: Fine, fine. You win, here's the chapter.

Rawk: Yes, he is questionable as a leader. I think I'm trying to show some post-traumatic stress. Well, either that or I need some conflict, so I'm taking the easy way out.

JCTigerWolfe: Velcomen! Cassie's your favorite? Wow, I can't believe you admitthat. lol j/k I'll explain Cassie's problem soon enough. I actually didn't think you guys would make such a big deal outta it. Now I guess I have to put a little more into this conflict.

Gah, this HTML thing is awful. I used to just upload txt documents, but now I have to put " " after everything to keep my format. I know HTML, but it's annoying. Anyone else not like this system?

Your AIC

EARLY


	15. The Deal

* * *

The Waiver (16)

* * *

We traveled quickly from dome to dome in the vast underground world of creatures we knew as the "Blue." In the dark tunnels, our only light source came from our escort's many light-pods and the greenish-yellow sunlight filtering through the evenly spaced holes in the planet's surface. At this point, we had all demorphed, save Marco who was in Gorilla form if the need arose for a bit of violence.

The tunnel we were in shunted leftward into a massive underground dome, larger than any we had walked through yet. Even if I estimated it's size with my usual measurement of "school buses and football fields"... well, it would one bus-packed field day. The roof of this area was so far away, I couldn't make out the blue light that was significantly placed at the top of every dome.

I expected more walking ahead, probably ending at some regal throne or palace. More to my surprise when we were stopped at a large metal panel or hatch in the ground, flanked by two guards carrying something similar to Dracon Beam weapons. One of them waved his arms slowly up and down, like a giant tired butterfly, while the other stopped down to open the hatch. I tried to ignore the strange rituals and habits of an alien species and climbed through the hatch, the second guard content to stand there flapping away.

In a flurry of lights from one of our escorts, Mederash's translator chattered off a string of Galard. "He says it's a greeting and a warning to evil things that may have attached itself to you. The local Tunnel-Lord is highly germ sensitive."

Glad the silence was broken, but still wary of unnecessary conversation, I asked, "How deep are we now, Menderash?"

Menderash hummed and hawed for a bit as we trudged down the stairs and dumped out into a large corridor. "About one hundred, English system, Earth yards, Sir."

Tobias laughed in thought speak, ((Wow and I thought Ax was too detail oriented. Now they're English system yards?))

"I am only trying to be specific so there are no misunderstandings." Menderash miffed. "I would hate for, say, our ship to be crashed into a planet or anything of that nature."

Anxious to change the subject, I stopped walking for a moment. The others, trained soldiers and veterans alike, obediently halted and gathered alongside me. The escorts bumped into each other in their haste to turn around and ask what the hold up was. The translator spouted out monotonous Galard, only a few words of which I were able to pick up as meaning, pretty much "what's the hold up?"

But since crash landing….and waking up from my concussion, we hadn't had a moment to summarize the situation and set-up some sort of game-plan.

I yanked the translator from Menderash and muttered. "Gafrash. Klinefor cliff-def." Which I think meant "Attention. Time needed." in the mush-mouth language. But I couldn't be too sure. I aimed the translator towards the Blue, giving them full view of the blips of light emitting from the grill. The escorts stopped flashing their pod-lights and waited patiently, so I guess my Galard was close enough to make my point.

Menderash gave me a look of discontent. "You have an Earthling accent, you know."

"We prefer to be called Terrans, now." Santorelli chirped up, happy to be part of the conversation.

I shook my head, ending the banter. "Menderash, I know I won't understand the specifics, but can you tell me how desperate our situation is?"

"It depends on our constraints for time. If the materials are few here and we have several Earth years to spare…" he trailed off giving a pointed look at Tobias, "then I see no urgency. We are hoping however that the 'Blue' inhabitants here will be technologically advanced enough to have some simple gears and materials pre-fabricated. Which should diminish our landside time, Sir."

Jeanne half-raised her hand. "I am an Avionics Structural Repairer. Perhaps my limited i Earth /i expertise could be of helping for you, Menderash?" she smiled in his direction.

"Perhaps." He allowed, with a nod for Jeanne's accomplishments.

"Okay, that's enough, let's go." I gestured unnecessarily to the others as they filed in behind me. The escorts flashed off a snatch of conversation that the Translator didn't catch and we were on our way again.

As we trooped along, the dark soil and rock walls gave way to tiny multi-colored glowing tiles. We silently kept our various limbs from touching these tiles, with an unspoken group fear of radiation. But now the aliens were well illuminated, apparently the only light that didn't confuse their method of communication was radioactive lights. Unless these tiles were some sort of phosphorous. Of course the Translator's efficiently was only at a point where it could translate common terms like "And, The, if, or" and "is". The most complicated noun it could read was "cup" or "door". There was no way I could ask the aliens anything scientific at this point.

Under the disturbing glow, I saw our escorts clearly. Flat top heads, glowing communication pods… four legs connected at super-sized hips.

"Holy crap."

I turned, surprised to hear that from Cassie and couldn't help but laugh childishly at her cursing. "What's up?" I asked.

"They're Helmacrons!"

* * *

Well that wasn't funny. Not funny at all.

"What's a Helmacron?" Jeanne asked.

((I happen to hate Helmacrons. Almost more than Yeerks.)) Marco offered, helpfully.

"A bit of an exaggeration. See, Helmacrons are a very small species who are highly developed in space travel, weaponry and genetic manipulation." Cassie explained.

((Plus they're freakin' annoying.)) added Marco, raising one Gorilla fist.

"We had some run-ins with Helmacrons in the past and while everything turned out okay, nothing was gained from any interaction with them." I said neutrally. "Besides, these guys aren't really Helmacrons. They look similar, sure, but you could just as easily call me a chimp."

Marco, predictably, thought spoke, ((You're a chimp.))

I raised an eyebrow at the fact that a Gorilla was telling me this, knowing the irony was not lost on my best friend.

"I can't believe you're being so laid-back about this, Jake." Cassie was walking close and raised up to whisper in my ear.

"Well, I've never been shrunk to the size of a pea and forced into Helmacron servitude." I repressed a smile, imagining a miniature Cassie, bowing down to tiny aliens in a toy-like spaceship. Of course at the time the situation seemed more dire, but I could laugh about it. As a matter of fact, I found it easy to laugh about a lot of things now.

I "discretely" allowed Cassie and I to fall back in the group, although when you're in charge nothing you do is so unnoticeable to your subordinates. So Santorelli tossed a grin over his shoulder and Marco thought speak "chuckled", but I ignored them both.

I threw an arm around Cassie's shoulder and felt hers wrap around my waist. Whispering into her ear, "We'll be fine" with a quick peck on the cheek. When I felt her spine relax under my hand, I let go and sidled back to the front, right behind the ambassadors.

Everything about this mission was personal. Make a deal with a leader of this planet for supplies. Search the galaxy for an old comrade. Secretly pilot a ship into restricted space. It was a nice vacation, as for once the entire human race wasn't at stake. No. This was protection of an endangered species. The highly dangerous and hunted Animorph.

How many more systems would we pass through, planets would we land on, aliens would we encounter… it didn't matter. We would find Ax. Because he would find us.

But first, our ship needed a tune-up.

Finally, the green tiled corridor ended with a steep downhill slope, guarded by another pair of gun-slinging guards. There was a flurry of arm-waving and light flashing, then downhill we continued. The walls pressed in tighter, squeezing our team into single-file. I became more nervous the further down we traveled in this fashion. A single-file line is more difficult to defend and to a veteran mind this had the makings of an ambush.

"Does it occur to anyone else that we might be able to send out a scout to gain information on their aeronautical storage and just steal it?" Santorelli stage-whispered. Apparently, I wasn't the only one with an imagination.

"Nothing doing. We don't know when we'll run into these guys in the future," I replied.

Wouldn't want to give Humans and Andalites a bad rep if the Blue are peaceful, Tobias clarified.

"Plus I want to know who shot at our ship. But that's not a bad idea, Santorelli." I continued, not wanting to discourage him from putting in his thoughts.

Finally we entered a room that was somewhat how I envisioned for the past hour of walking. Glittering green tiles lined the walls, various ancient and decorative weapons were displayed on the wall, made entirely of the green rock with handles woven from the golden grasses of the planet's surface.

The center of the room featured a pit. No stairs or elevator to the bottom, although I probably could have climbed down if I wanted to. The bottom of the pit was only ten feet down from where I was standing. In the center of the pit floor, however, was a brilliantly bright glowing chair or throne. A very large Blue adorned with green jewelry sat on the throne, cushioned by woven grass. He held a large green pipe which he occasionally pressed to his chest, only to have smoke seep from pores all over his body as he exhaled.

"Amazing physiology!" Menderash gasped, fumbling for one of the many devices in his overly-pouched jacket. "They breathe through their pores? No lungs! I- This would explain the germophobia and superbly clean air, Sir. I would need to extract DNA to report on the capabilities of their immune system, however."

I waved him away from the edge of the pit and he sadly put away his scanner, still visibly excited at the prospects of a closer look.

Immune system?" Tobias looked to Menderash. "Might these green things have anything to do with that? I mean, if they're radioactive and the TL is down here all the time, would that make him more sensitive to germs?

In a very human moment, Menderash shrugged. "I'm a Pilot and Botanist. Geneticist isn't my secondary profession. More of a hobby." At Tobias's sudden wing preening, he amended, "It seems feasible, however, that slight radiation over a long period of time would diminish his immune system."

Tobias calmed and stopped picking at his wings in embarrassment, resettling his perch on Marco's massive arm. To me it seemed that he had become close to the Nothlit Andalite while onboard. It was obvious that Tobias thought highly of Menderash's assessments.

It was then that the Tunnel-Lord decided to put on a fantastic lightshow, beams and flashes emitted from the pods on his arms, legs and torso, light blasting from out of his Throne-Pit up into the room above.

The translator worked furiously. "Galahash. Guardex tringin, sengtaur ba! Inkvit padew genek…."

"Well, I got 'welcome' and 'who' and that's about it, Menderash." I drawled.

Menderash cleared his throat and attempted to catch up with the still chattering translator.

"He or she says: 'Welcome those who come from the Dark Sea! You brighten our tunnels and our innards with the glorious light of-"

I sighed and rubbed my nose, fending off an oncoming super-headache. "Menderash, can you just give me the important stuff?"

"But sir? How will I know what is important? I couldn't possibly know what my prince will deem-"

"Just use your better judgment. I trust you, you're my Executive Officer."

Menderash's human body swelled with pride, a gesture of body language common between both Andalites and Humans. "I was unaware that I still held my former… That is to say, yes Captain."

The translator finally stopped spouting all the eloquencies, pleasantries and general butt-kissing-ecies of the Tunnel-Lord.

"Odd, Sir. He asks if we are in this part of the galaxy chasing or being chased."

"Tell him… tell him that we are not exchanging any information until we have verified that he is not the one who fired on us."

Menderash hesitated, "I can't do that."

I made a 'go on' gesture and Menderash apparently understood human gestures enough to continue. "You must speak simply, Captain. This is a captured Skit Na Translator. While it is more versatile in the types and dialects of language, it is wholly inaccurate when compared to an Andalite Language Translator which is guided by thoughtspeak. Which we all know is far more accurate than simple Galard-"

"Okay understood." I interrupted. "Tell him that we are chasing. And we will help him chase if he helps us." I figured if I only used words I heard from the translator, it would be understood by the basic program.

Menderash whispered Galard into the machine, aimed the lamp-grill and pressed a button.

Lights flared again from the giant Helmacron-esque body of the Tunnel-Lord, "The Red of the Grass-Land war with the Blue of the Tunnels. Give to stop the Red. What we give you."

"My engineer… uh, friend go where you have metals…um, Dark Sea ship pieces. You give him what he wants."

"We have no Dark Sea Ships! We are not powerful as the great aliens who… Sorry, Captain." Menderash sighed and waited for the TL's pleasantries to expire. "Ah, he says they do have tunneling machines. And if you tunnel through space perhaps those can help you." He looked at me over his shoulder. "I'd have to look at these machines first, but it is a start."

"Agreed. Tell him we need a base. A place to plan. To sleep, certainly. We need… I don't know, maps, intelligence."

Intelligence being our primary concern… Marco thought-muttered.

We were escorted again, this time with a different pair of guards. These were bejeweled with the green artifacts and held themselves higher, walked slower, than our previous ambassadors.

Finally in a hole of our own, we were given planet-boring grub delicacies and offered comfortable, possibly-radioactive, beds. Obviously these rooms were set aside for the TL's personal guests. After much tinkering of the translator and haggling with our guards, we managed to get across that while we were grateful, we'd prefer more Spartan settings. The guards were appalled but eventually complied. After kicking out some Blue who looked to be soldiers, we settled into their barren living space.

It wasn't too long before visitors sent by the TL came along.

Between Menderash, the Skrit-Na Translator and I, we managed to decipher Light into Galard into English.

Painting a terrible picture of just what happened on this planet, who the Blue were… and why we should never help them.

* * *

REVIEWER'S RESPONSE:

LJstagflower4e: (14,13,12)Cassie's your favorite character? And you're admitting it? Well, first step to solving a problem, I suppose… As for the "what is the matter with Cassie" question, that comes in a couple of chapters. It's the "B" story. Main focus is on Jake, the Ship and this planet. I really AM sorry that it took me so long to continue this. I mean, 2 years, right? But I swear the circumstances were not under my control. Thanks for reviewing!

Freak Apple: That's why I put Cassie on top. Less pressure on her delicates. Heh. "Delicates."

Julie: "the best fan-fic EVER!" Okay, I'm printing out your review and mounting it on my freakin' wall. There's not much else I can respond to your beaming review except, hey, thanks for the ego-boost!

Alikat:(14)-You forgot you were following along with my fic? That's okay, I usually check my stories reviewed stats after logging in to keep track of what I've reviewed and read in the past. So I sympathize.

Oedipal Kat: Possessed? Nah. No Atafal Ixcila either (like Aldrea ) Keep guessing!

Clear Candles: Ugh (I know my statement may alienate from some readers, however…) You went over to Harry Potter section! Never to return to Animorphs! I fell like a separated parent who was just told his kid chose to stay at her mothers!

RASPBERRY GIRL (who gets her name in capitals)- You have no idea how much I loved writing that temporary chapter. If only I wasn't bound by the unofficial ghostwriter rules… I even deleted the original file! But that was the first smut scene I have ever written and the first chapter I ever thought was actually good. So if anyone kept a copy of that chapter for, erm, "personal reasons" I'd love to have it back. Maybe to temporarily post it again. (sneaking past the rating system, of course)

Lovelyinsanity: It's a running joke, actually. I change my avatars and online pics once a month to confuse people as my gender and nationality. One day it's a Chinese girl, the next an American man. I always switch pronouns between male and female. I also claim to be Gay, straight or xenon-sexual. I'm only pointing trying to point out that it doesn't matter. Any person could have written this, I'll never be famous and I don't date online. So there's no reason for anyone to need to know my gender, nationality or species. Sorry I confused you and thanks for reading!

SarcasmSage: With a name like that I was expecting a review far more scathing! Thanks for being merciful oh sarcastic sage! And I'm glad that I gave you your J/C fix to go along with the coffee and sugar. Care for a cigarette? LOL Hope to see you in the next chapter and be more critical if you review again! EARN that name.

Vamp: Here's hoping I describe said "cool, alien race" appropriately so it's not just a gaggle of descriptive various body parts thrown into a blender.

Dracos-Wife: More J/C is in production. Don't worry, plenty of angst to go before The One enters.

Animorph19: Yes, she IS starting to act like Rachel, hmmm. Wonder if I did that on purpose? Maaaaayyyybbeeee… Any who thanks for reading and I'm truly sorry I took so long. Bad Early.

Elwing: Aw man, why didn't you log in to review! When people log in to review, I get to check out THEIR stories too! No fair. And I believe the most reviewed fic was One Least Likely by Augustine Quill. But if we're doing Review-to-chapter ratio, I think I'm at 6 Reviews Per Chapter and his is 5.5 RPC.

Goddess of darkness3: Another Cassie fan? You guys are more numerous than I anticipated. Guess I can't kill her off, then, huh? Damn. Thanks for reading and I hope you aren't disappointed with this chappy. I submitted this without the aid of a Beta to draw attention. I'm hoping that if Beta's see I am active, they will come (eerie music plays)

Thank you all and no bitching if the next chapter takes too long, first I have to finish it, then I have to submit it to a willing and able Beta.

Well actually, first I have to smoke and drink, THEN I have to write it and…

* * *


	16. The Collapse

* * *

The Waiver (16)

* * *

It was six centuries ago, on a planet with no name. The Blue claimed that Planet Glowstick always was. They could cite no time or method of origin. No explanation of why that planet was either mutated or spawned completely of acidic radioactive rock. All they knew was that six hundred years ago, they were not the Blue, but the Stor'dia.

The planet of the Stor'dia was slowly losing the mirror-like atmospheric shell which protected the surface from intense radiation. While the Stor'dia themselves were breaking also. The world leaders had jumped into the world's only starship and split. An even balanced crew of males and females, so that the world leaders could repopulate once another planet was conquered. Leaving the rest of the population to fend for themselves.

Political tensions had risen, none could agree on how to defend themselves from the spreading sickness. The two political parties were the Blue, who had recently discovered a metal which warded off the sickness. And the Red... who discovered that some who were born had not been affected by the radiation. They were healthy and strong and could bear viable young.

So the Blue and Red split, each ceding from a joint government. Those of the Blue tunneled deep underground and lined the walls of every tunnel with the miraculous rock. Lead. Not understanding that they had traded one evil for another. Still not knowing.

Should I tell them?

The Red slowly died one-by-one, but survived each time by more and more children. Somehow adapted to the radiation. Under such small doses under the thinning atmosphere, though they did not survive, the genes that would protect their species thrived in their children. So did their vendetta. They would destroy the Blue no matter what the cost. The world would be united under one government, one species.

The Red.

Sick and dying underground, but still not open to Glowstick's radiation, the Blue collected shiny meteors that had fallen from the sky. They believed these to be gifts from planet Glowstick. As the Lead would ward off radiation, this beautiful green metal would stop whatever was still making them sick now. Lead poisoning.

The Blue would be dead in another century or so, with or without the Red trying to kill them. They were killing themselves. But with this new Tunnel-Lord and his magical stones, they had taken on a new life, with pride. Now they were hunting the Red. And it was much easier to kill something above-ground then below.

As the Red's missiles would only impact the surface, not harming the tunnels underneath, the Blue had a much more sinister and clean way of eliminating the Red.

The air below ground was super-filtered. Only the cleanest air in. Freshwater came from deep wells, food from grubs in the soil, making them completely self-contained. Meanwhile the Tunnel-leaders had brought new technology to the Tunnel-Lord. A satellite which would orbit their planet, reflecting the radiation and diverting it to clouds nearby.

Making the rain deadly poisonous.

The two sides were so firm in their belief that the other was choosing the wrong way to survive, that they were going to kill each other and leave the planet in ruins.

Which is why the moment it was just us, when the Blue Tunnel Lord's friends had left, Marco jumped to his feet.

"Okay, I dub this 'Planet Politix'... and I'm never coming back here."

I ignored him and tried to get my facts straight. "Maybe that's why the Red shot at us. They must have thought we were a satellite?"

Marco nodded. "That or Politix's old leaders coming back to see if they were all dead yet after six hundred years."

"I do not understand," Jeanne interjected. "Vere this technology goes? If zey have spaceships many years ago, vere iz it now?"

Conversation stopped and all eyes were on Jeanne.

Marco touched a finger to his lower lip. "Would six hundred year old parts be usable, Mendy?"

Menderash ignored the barb at his name, "I do not know. I would have to test the materials. It all depends on the metal's longevity and maintenance."

He looked up at me. "I don't know," he said, solemnly shaking his head.

"Okay, so we have to find out if spaceships still exist on this planet, can they be used for parts and can we get a hold of them." I said, preparing to dole out instructions.

"Not in that order, sir." Menderash disagreed. "I would need to have the material close by to test it. Finding it, however, should be the simplest task."

Marco snorted.

"While main sensors are temporarily disabled," Menderash persisted, "we do have the capacities to send a small seismic wave to the center of the planet.

At our blank looks he continued, impassioned to get the idea across to us. "...resulting in a primitive three-dimensional radar... with all points of interest displayed in a holographic schematic... Do any of you understand what I am describing to you?"

Santorelli alone raised his hand, and the rest of us slowly succumbed to a fit of giggles.

"There has to be something in the air down here, I don't care what that scanner says."

As we filed out of the room, to see if it was still raining out, Cassie's irritable quip made me look to the green tiled room a few doors over. Maybe it wasn't the air we should've been worried about.

* * *

The rain had passed. My team had filed into our crippled ship to go about some semblance of business as usual. I took a break to get a breath of fresh air. As I stepped out the dock, I was struck by Politix's nighttime sky. The stars were barely visible, overshadowed by Glowstick's illumination.

I slumped onto the stiff golden grass with a sigh.

Crunching footsteps nearby alerted the soldier's reflex in me. Shooting my arm out quickly, I grasped a jean-clad leg.

"Oh. Sorry, Cass."

Smiling down at me... she never looked more tired. I gestured for her to take a spot next to me and she did, sliding her hand into mine. She followed my gaze to the stars above. I saw the fear in her eyes, reflecting the glow of the radioactive planet above us.

She stifled a cough. "That can't be healthy, Jake. Pretty. But not healthy. We should get inside."

"Yeah." I hesitated. "Cassie, are you all right? You don't seem yourself lately."

She released my hand. "We all don't act ourselves sometimes, Jake." I lowered my head a bit. I wasn't exactly the greatest guy to be around after the war ended.

"I know. But beside that, you act as if you have something on your mind bothering you. I thought maybe you'd want to tell me what."

"No. Nothing. Just stress." I could tell she was forcing her smile as she kissed my cheek. But I didn't want it to end at that. What if I had done something to upset her or was making the wrong decisions again? Every time Cassie had tried to stop me from doing something and I went and did it anyways... I just always regretted it.

I turned my face so that her lips slid to mine. She made a low little sound as we kissed and I waited until she opened her eyes to speak.

"Just know. If you have anything to tell me, do it. I may not like it at the time, but I'll get over myself, okay?" I tried to make myself voice as comforting as possible, looking her straight in the eyes.

She gave an exasperated sigh. "You can be really sweet when you want, Jake. Let's go inside now. Please?"

I nodded and stood, pausing to help Cassie to her feet. We held hands until we boarded, then parted to resume our separate duties. It disturbed me how Cassie was acting. I felt like I was being brushed off. But it was understandable. If for no other reason than I deserved it.

Marco tapped me on the shoulder, breaking me from the thought. "Hey, Santorelli and I have something to show you below decks. In the hangar. You gotta see what we did down there, dude. You're freakin' gonna love it."

I shook my head. "Nah, thanks, Marco. I got stuff on my mind right now, man. I can't be playing around while my ship is out of commission."

"Jake, didn't I prove to you I'm your best buddy in the world?" he said monotonously.

Oh no.

"And aren't I solely responsible for creating an atmosphere in which you and your lover-lady can reconcile?" he continued, still straight faced.

I nodded slowly.

"Then get your ass downstairs, fearless leader! You owe me."

"All right, but this better be worth my time."

"You bet it is, you aughta see what we made a basketball out of and-"

I gasped, startled, "Basketball!"

* * *

Playing basketball with Marco, Tobias and Santorelli gave me a lasting adrenaline rush. We had switched around teams a couple of times, due to Marco's complaint that Santorelli and I had an advantage. So Tobias and I matched up and eventually won, but Marco claimed we were cheating anyways. Laughing as Marco yelled out insults, we had split apart for some of us to start our shift and others to bed.

So I can say that I was feeling quite chipper as I rapped on Cassie's door. Though we had lived together for some time before embarking on this rescue mission, I still felt it wasn't polite to just walk in on her. Which seemed like it was going to be a problem, because she wasn't answering her door.

"Uh Cassie?" I shouted through the door. "Hello? Okay, well, I'm coming in!"

I used my Captain's Privilege, overriding the lock on her door, to find her peacefully resting in bed. "Cassie?" I asked again, whispering now to not wake her if she was asleep. Noticing no reaction, I perched on the side of her bed and watched her for a while.

She was curled up on one side and hadn't even bothered to change into her nightgown. Must've been exhausted for that to happen. Cassie mostly didn't care what she wore or looked like, but loved that nightgown and was pretty insistent about wearing it every night. Not that I minded... actually the neckline on that thing was kinda low and-

Something was wrong. Her breath seemed to be shallow and broken. I leaned in closer, aiming my ear to her mouth. I'm not even close to the doctor of the group, that was more Cassie than I, but I have the common sense to know a sick person when I see one.

I gently rubbed her shoulder. "Hey, Cassie? Are you all right?"

". . . Cassie? Cassie!"

* * *

End of Chapter Sixteen (16)

* * *

**REVIEWER RESPONSE:**

**Quillan**: Thanks so much, Dude! Come on back to the review corner again and for this chapter don't be so freakin' nice!

**Elwing**: Welcome back to my Review Corner, Elwing! It was strange? Crap. Okay, flip me an e-mail with what erked you in the last chapter, please. I won't argue with whatever you tell me, lol. Nah, just radiation poisoning. Guess she doesn't have a very strong immune system or something. Hey, don't look at me, man, I just write it.

**Victim-of-his-own-design**: May I say, kickass penname there. I totally abandoned character development a few chapters ago and have been regretting it. So this and next couple of chapters are equally my retribution and proof that you can have action, drama and angst in one chapter. Whereas I usally put those in separate chapters... because I am a hack.

**RaspberryGirl**: AHOY! If it isn't the other skeleton in fanfiction's closet! Hey, um, what do you think about me... rewriting said controversial smut chapter again? and, oh I dunno, reposting or something like that? Eh? Huh? I'm in a "dry spell" right now (because apparently fanfiction authors aren't sexy, who knew?) So I'm totally in the mood for writing smut lately. Plus, I'm a review whore and sex always delivers. Well, what'd ya think?

* * *

**The vote is back, people!**

(Even though I have since edited my chapters to delete the old votes. Which has resulted in strange reviews where people have only typed numbers)

**Vote #1**: Reader ignores Early and changes to the Worship Channel- "Aughta be ashamed, this is a children's story!"

**Vote #2:** Reader switches to the Playboy Channel and gives Early the thumbs up.- "Hey, I haven't seen a child in the Animorphs section since '98. Rock it, bro!"

* * *

**Your Author in Crime**,

--EARLY


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